


Marry Me (Because I'd Like to Date You)

by starsthatburn



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Awkward Romance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Marriage Proposal, The Proposal - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-12-06 20:26:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18225023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsthatburn/pseuds/starsthatburn
Summary: The Proposal AU. When Regina finds out she's about to be deported, she blackmails her assistant Emma into pretending to be her fiancée.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited to finally be posting this fic – as we all know, The Proposal is the greatest rom com ever and has been screaming out for a lesbian remake ever since it was released. Let's hope I do this justice.
> 
> There are 10 chapters to this fic and it was be updated every **Sunday** only. Also, just to warn you, there isn't a dancing scene in the woods – my second-hand embarrassment couldn't cope with trying to write it.
> 
> As some of you know already know, I'm considering making this my last fic for the Swan Queen fandom, so I hope you all enjoy xx
> 
> PS. In the original upload Regina was from Puerto Rico because I was trying not to whitewash Lana. I didn't realise that Puerto Ricans can't be deported from the US. People got upset about it, so Regina's from Canada now - I'm sorry for the mistake and I hope this works.

When Emma wasn't woken by a frantic beeping, she immediately knew something was wrong.

Peeling open one eye, she found the sun streaming in through the window and her phone screen black. She reached out and frantically tapped at it – she'd forgotten to set her alarm the night before, evidently, and now the clock was cheerily informing her that it was 8:03am.

"Shit," she yelped, leaping out of bed. She tripped over a dangling sheet on her way to the bathroom and collided with the wall, nearly earning herself a black eye to round off what she was certain was going to be a truly terrible day.

After showering and getting dressed in under 10 minutes, Emma ran out the door and made her way across town. By the time she reached Starbucks, her hair was still wet and her shirt was buttoned up wrong. The line was snaking almost out the door and she groaned, glancing at her watch – it was 8:50am, and the Evil Queen was due to arrive at the office at 9. Emma briefly weighed up which would get her fired faster – showing up late, or showing up not quite as late but without coffee.

"Emma," a voice called from the front of the line. "Up here."

Emma peered round the queue of people and spotted her usual barista waving at her from behind the counter. He was tall and grizzly-looking and Emma already knew from multiple unprompted conversations with him that he had decided he was a writer, although he hadn't actually written anything yet. In spite of how uninterested she was in him, she scurried to the front of the line with relief dripping down her back like sweat.

"Here you go," he said, handing over two cups. "Your usual."

"You're saving my ass, August," she said, thrusting a bill into his hand. "Thank you so much."

He grinned back at her, but Emma was already running off, paying no attention to the line of people glaring at her as she vanished onto the street.

She made it to the office at 8:58am and hurled herself into the elevator. She spotted a receptionist from the main floor and asked, "Is she here yet?"

"Not yet," the woman replied. "Cutting it a bit fine, aren't you?"

"It hasn't been a good morning," Emma said, balancing the cup tray in one hand as she used the other to unbutton and rebutton part of her shirt. A few men glanced over at the sudden appearance of her bra. She pointedly ignored them.

The elevator dinged at the 15th floor and Emma rushed out into the office. _You made it_ , she told herself, breathing a sigh of relief. _Maybe today won't be so bad after_ —

There was a huge crash as the guy with the mail cart collided with her hip, and she suddenly felt her entire torso start to burn with something wet and cinnamon-smelling.

"Shit," Emma shrieked, the entire office turning to stare. She'd been wearing a white button-down shirt when she'd left her apartment, but now it was a murky brown colour.

"I'm so sorry," the mail guy stammered, reaching out like he was going to attempt to clean her up. She took a sharp step back.

"No," she snapped, looking down at the cups in her hand. One was mostly intact, but the other – which was going to have to be hers, she realised – was empty and half falling out of its tray. "Oh, Jesus Christ."

Tossing the ruined cup into the trash, Emma stormed across the room and headed into her boss's office. She still wasn't there, which was pretty much the only positive thing Emma could focus on right then. She was still soaked and smelling of coffee, though, and she had less than a minute to do anything about either of those problems.

"Wow," a voice from behind her said. She turned to find Elsa leaning against the glass doorframe. "Rough morning?"

"Give me your shirt."

Elsa raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I'm serious – swap shirts with me," Emma said, glancing at the elevators. "I'll do anything."

"Yeah, no thanks," Elsa replied. "Her Majesty must have a spare."

"I'm not taking my boss's shirt."

"You think she'll appreciate that when she walks in to find you dripping all over her carpet?"

Emma looked down and realised that she did in fact have half a latte dribbling down her pants leg and onto the floor. She groaned.

"Shit," she muttered, turning to one of the cabinets and rummaging through the dry cleaning bags that her boss hadn't managed to take home yet. They were mostly full of fancy skirts and black-tie gowns, but eventually she dug out a shirt that she wasn't sure she'd even seen her wear before. "This?"

"It's fine. Quick," Elsa said, not batting an eyelid when Emma immediately started undressing in the middle of the glass office. Emma grabbed the shirt, which was a weird silky blue thing that still smelled disconcertingly like Lola by Marc Jacobs, and began to tug it on.

The elevator pinged at that exact moment, and Emma felt her entire spine go rigid.

"Hurry up, you sloppy bitch," Elsa hissed, grabbing Emma's ruined shirt and taking it out into the main office with her. Emma frantically finished buttoning herself up and tucked the shirt into her pants, which were still slightly stained with coffee but were the least of her problems right then.

Turning to check that the rest of the room was in order, Emma smoothed a hand over her still-damp hair and straightened up. The entire floor had gone silent apart from two things: the sound of sudden industrious keyboard tapping, and a set of high heels walking toward her.

Emma swivelled to find Regina Mills in the doorway, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"Morning, boss," Emma said, hoping that if she started talking right away it might distract her from what she was wearing. "You have a conference call at 9:30."

Regina was still watching her curiously, her eyes narrowed and sharp.

"I know," she replied, taking another step into the room. "Is that my shirt?"

Terror sunk like a stone in Emma's stomach. She suddenly heard herself lying, "Nope."

"No?"

"No – I guess we must just have similar taste."

Her boss's entire face crumpled with disgust. "I highly doubt that."

Thankfully, she walked toward her desk then and left that conversation behind her. "Push the call back to 10, and tell Joel in accounting to stop harassing me about my expenses report – I'll get it to him when I'm ready."

Emma grabbed one of the many notebooks that she left dotted around in case Regina threw a sudden demand at her and started scribbling. "Sure. Also, your immigration lawyer called after you left last night."

Regina scoffed. "Of course he did."

"He said he'd call back this morning. Apparently it's urgent."

"It's always urgent," Regina replied, sitting down and rummaging through some of the papers on her desk. "If he calls again, tell him I'm busy. I haven't got time for that today."

Emma glanced up from her notes – Regina never seemed to have time for anything, except for berating her assistant and generally making everybody in the building tremble with fear whenever she walked by. She hadn't taken a single day off in the entire time she'd worked there, not even when swine flu had been doing the rounds and her temperature had been a toasty 103 degrees. Supposedly if she wasn't around to yell at everyone and make sure their lives were a living hell, the company would crumble into bankruptcy before the week was out.

Emma watched her as she peered down at her paperwork. When Regina was sitting like that, with her face angled downward, Emma could see a thick scar on her upper lip. It always made her feel weirdly sorry for her.

That was, until Regina looked up again with her brown eyes flashing. "Is there a problem?"

"No," Emma said quickly, going back to her notes. "I'll tell him."

"Good. And while you're at it, go and get your own shirt cleaned so you can take my one off."

Emma paused. "It's not—"

"Don't lie to me, Miss Swan. You can work this weekend for that."

"What?" Emma stammered. "But I've got my family thing, remember? It's my parents' 25th anniversary and I booked Friday and Monday off for it. You—"

"Cancel it," Regina cut her off in her flattest voice. "You should have thought about that before you went rifling through my personal property playing dress-up."

Gritting her teeth so hard she heard a crack, Emma asked, "Can't I stay late tonight instead?"

"No, but you can go and get me a smoothie. I'm not a peasant and I don't want to drink your leftover coffee."

"Sorry?"

Regina scooped up the surviving cup from her desk and turned it so that Emma could see the phone number written on the opposite side.

_Emma – give me a call_

_August_

That same stone of terror that lived in Emma's abdomen whenever Regina was around sunk a little lower.

"It's not my leftovers," she said slowly. "He just… wrote on the wrong cup."

"I see," Regina said, lifting it and taking a sip. Her eyes never left Emma's. "You drink the same coffee as me?"

"I… do."

"Have you always?"

"Of course."

Regina immediately dropped the cup into the trash and flipped her glossy brown hair over her shoulder. "What did I just tell you about lying to me? Go get me that smoothie, and make sure you're wearing something that belongs to you when you come back."

Emma turned and all but ran out the room, snatching her coffee-soaked shirt from Elsa on the way. Once she'd been to the smoothie bar, she stopped off at H&M before making her way to the dry cleaners.

As she stood in the bathroom wriggling into her new shirt, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and realised how exhausted she looked. No wonder she'd forgotten to set her fucking alarm.

* * *

Regina was pleased to see that Emma was wearing another shirt when she returned. It was white and tightly fitted, and in her hand she was clutching a green smoothie that tasted as bad as it looked.

"For you," Emma said, handing it over with that hint of sullenness that always got Regina slightly excited. She had a piece of paper in her other hand.

"What's that?" Regina asked. Emma hesitated.

"Dry cleaning ticket."

"For your other shirt?"

Emma sighed. "For yours."

Throwing her assistant the smug grin that she knew she hated, Regina said, "Excellent. I'm glad to hear it won't be smelling of cheap bourbon and men's cologne when I get it back."

Emma smiled tightly and ignored her.

"Your immigration lawyer called again," she said, looking down at her notes. "I told him you were busy."

"Good," Regina replied, sipping her kale smoothie and trying not to shudder. "Anything else?"

"Not right now."

"Then I guess you'd better go call your family and tell them that you can't make their saccharine reunion this weekend, right?"

Emma didn't even flinch. She just turned and left.

Regina settled down with her work for the next half hour, waiting until the very last minute before she started to get ready for her conference call. Outside the glass walls of her office, she could see Emma on the phone with her forehead resting on one hand.

She smirked and got up.

"I know," she heard Emma say as she opened the door. "I'm sorry, Mom. I tried, but you know she doesn't listen to me."

There was a pause as a shrill voice from down the line talked back at her. Regina took a step closer and wondered how long it would take for her presence to be registered.

"Of course I'm not just making excuses," Emma sighed, tilting her head and suddenly noticing her boss standing three feet away. She jumped and nearly dropped the phone. "Mom, I'll call you back."

She hurriedly hung up, her cheeks stained pink. Regina always liked it when they did that.

"Your mother?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Is she disappointed?"

"Yes."

"Did she tell you to quit?"

Emma glared back at her. "She tells me that every single day."

The phone started ringing again before Regina could respond, and Emma picked up with an aggressive-sounding, "Good morning, Ms Mills's office."

She paused for a second before saying, "Regina's busy at the moment, Sidney, but we can stop by after her conference call."

Regina waved one hand. Emma frowned and said, "Hang on."

When she had the phone pressed to her shoulder, she waited expectantly for Regina to explain.

"We're going there now," Regina said.

"We are? You have a call."

"It can wait. This won't take long."

That was a sentence that never boded well. Emma told Sidney they'd be with him shortly, then stumbled along behind her boss as they walked over to the elevator. They didn't speak on the journey down.

Sidney worked a floor below them, because Regina loved to remind him of the fact that he was just slightly junior to her. Regina was the editor in chief of Rocinante Books – the youngest ever at the age of 37, and the first woman to hold the position – and it was a constant source of contention between her and Sidney Glass, who had been there for 10 years longer than her but had never quite managed to overtake her.

Regina sauntered into his office without knocking and nearly let the door slam shut in Emma's face in the process.

"Ms Mills," Sidney said. He was sitting at his desk with his hands folded on top of his notepad. He spotted Emma and added, "Ah – and her lapdog."

Ignoring him, Emma shut the door and positioned herself in the corner. She knew without asking that she was only there to be a witness to something.

"Sidney," Regina said coolly, striding over to his window and looking out at the view. It faced the wrong side of the city and was considerably less impressive than her own. Emma saw the self-satisfied smile on her face before she asked, "How are things on the 14th floor today?"

"Fine, thank you. Not as grand as the 15th, I imagine."

"No," Regina said, wrinkling her nose like there was a bad smell. "You're right about that."

As Emma watched, Sidney gave the back of Regina's head a strange, simpering look – almost like he was pleading with her without saying the words out loud.

"Anyway," Regina said, turning back to face him and leaning one arm on the nearest bookshelf. "Sidney, I'm letting you go."

The room went deathly silent. Sidney glanced over at Emma to check she wasn't laughing at this hilarious practical joke, but he found her staring open-mouthed at Regina as well.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're fired," Regina clarified. "It's time for you to move on."

"But, I… I've been here for nearly 20 years."

"And in that time, you haven't done a single thing to progress this company. I'm tired of your attitude."

"Regina," Sidney stammered. "You don't have the power to do this."

"Of course I do. I'm the editor in chief – something you should be all too aware of, judging by how often you bitch and whine about that in your 'private' staff meetings."

Sidney's face darkened. "You can't just fire me for no reason. I'll sue."

"Ah, well – luckily I have plenty of reasons," Regina said, taking a step closer. "Last week, when I came looking for you and your secretary said you were in a meeting, where were you really?"

"I don't… I don't recall."

"You were having lunch with the editor of White Publishing," Regina answered for him. "I have photographic evidence. They're our main competitor, Sidney, and I know they're looking for a new editor in chief. You're not a team player, and I don't need you."

Sidney was blinking furiously. "But—"

"And let's talk about the time when you tried to blackmail me into dating you," Regina interrupted. Emma jumped, turning to look at her. "Did you think I'd forgotten about that?"

Sidney glanced at Emma again before saying, "I never blackmailed you."

Emma couldn't help but be slightly in awe of Regina as she whipped a piece of paper out the waistband of her skirt like a fucking magician unveiling her main trick. She cleared her throat and began reading it out. "'Regina – I thought you would like the flowers, especially as a woman who wants to get ahead in this company. Maybe if you agreed to go to dinner with me, I could help you achieve that.'"

Emma could feel her entire body shrivelling up, but Regina looked remarkably casual about the whole thing. She put the email away again before Sidney could comment on it.

"You have a month to find a new job," she said. "After that, you can tell everyone you resigned. I will not be giving you a reference, so don't ask – but luckily you seem to have another job all lined up with White, don't you?"

All the colour had drained from Sidney's face, and he didn't respond.

"Good," Regina said. She turned to Emma and asked, "Do you have anything to add, Miss Swan?"

Emma just shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

Ten seconds later, they were in the elevator making their way back up to their own floor. Emma was silent and a little shaken, but beside her Regina seemed to be in a great mood. Sidney hadn't come chasing after them and screamed at her for being a poisonous bitch, which was a plus, and soon she'd be free of her useless deputy who never seemed to do anything except mope around hoping Regina would pay attention to him.

"He really tried to blackmail you?" Emma heard herself ask. Regina glanced over at her. Then the doors pinged open, and she walked out without answering.

* * *

When Emma knocked on her door later that afternoon, Regina looked up with a sigh. "What?"

"Sorry," Emma said, not stepping into the office. "Mr Locksley wants to speak to you."

That earned her an automatic eye roll. "Tell him I'm busy."

"He said it's urgent."

"I'm sure it is. But—"

"He called three times," Emma interrupted. "In 10 minutes. It's urgent."

Regina tossed her pen back onto the desk.

"Fine," she muttered, getting to her feet. "But come and get me in five. Make up some excuse."

"Sure."

Regina swept past her and headed for the elevator. Robin, the owner of the company, was the only person to have an office on the floor above Regina, and it was the place she hated visiting most in the world. As soon as she stepped out of the elevator and onto his turf, she felt like she had to try twice as hard to terrify anyone.

She pushed open the door to his office and was immediately greeted with the stench of aftershave and pine-needle air freshener.

"Robin," she said, smiling brightly. He was lounging behind his desk with one of his muddy boots – which he always wore to give some semblance of being a 'cool' boss, even though he refused to learn anybody's names and kept driving secretaries out after sexually harassing them – kicked up on top of the table.

"Regina – I'm glad you finally found time to see us," he replied. Movement in the corner of the room caught Regina's eye, and she suddenly realised that someone else was with them: the company lawyer, Dr Hopper, was perched awkwardly at the very edge of the office, his hands clasped over his briefcase. He offered her a shaky smile.

Regina looked back at Robin, who was gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. "Take a seat."

Ignoring him, Regina said, "Look, I'm sure this is very important, but I have a meeting with—"

"Do you remember your visa renewal form?" Robin interrupted.

"Of course. We sent it off last month."

"And do you remember being told that you were to remain in the country while it was being processed?"

Something sharp and uncomfortable twisted in Regina's stomach, but she ignored it. "Yes, I do."

"Then why, exactly, did you go to London last week?"

"We were about to lose one of our authors."

"And you couldn't send Sidney?"

"Absolutely not. You know how things work around here, Robin – if you want something done properly, you need to do it yourself."

Robin hummed to himself, finally deigning to take his boots off the desk. "Regina, your application has been declined."

Her already-fake smile froze on her face. "I'm sorry?"

"You broke the terms of your agreement with USCIS," Dr Hopper chimed in, sounding nervous. "Your immigration lawyer has been trying to get in touch with you for days."

"I've been busy," Regina scoffed. "I don't have time to take every single call that comes through."

"Well, this was kind of an important one," Robin said. "You're being deported."

" _Deported_?"

"I'm afraid so. I believe you have a few days to get your affairs in order, but you're expected to return to Canada until this can get straightened out."

There was a dull roaring sound in Regina's ears and she shook her head to try and get rid of it. "This can't… Look, I've lived here for 20 years. I didn't just come over the border hanging from the bottom of a fuel truck."

"We know that, and the government has been happy for you to stay until now, but—"

"Fine," Regina quickly cut him off. "This is fine. I can work from Vancouver for the time being, until my lawyer gets this fixed."

It wasn't fine, though – she'd been 17 years old the day she'd hopped on a plane and left that country for good, and the thought of going back made acid boil up in her throat. She reached for the chair in front of her and gripped it hard.

Dr Hopper looked at her awkwardly. "Regina, you can't work for an American company while your legal status is being determined."

"What? So, I'm fired?"

"No," Robin said. "Until this is all worked out, we'll place you on temporary leave and hand operations over to Sidney."

The rest of Regina's world came crashing down around her. "Sidney Glass? You remember me emailing you two hours ago to tell you I'd fired him, right?"

"Regina, he's the only option we've got. We can't leave the company without an editor in chief while you're off gallivanting through the Canadian Rockies."

"I'm not going to be—" Regina started angrily, then stopped herself. She took a deep breath. "Look. There must be a way."

"There is, if we go through the proper channels and try to sort out the mess you made when you left the country without permission."

"And how long will that take?"

"As long as it needs to."

"But—"

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Regina turned to find Emma's head poking hopefully into the room.

"Not now," she snapped.

"I know, you're busy," Emma said, because she'd become immune to her boss's tone about 18 months ago. "But I've got Mary downstairs for you."

"Who?"

"Mary," Emma said. She finally paused to take in the three agitated faces looking back at her. "She… She's here for that important meeting."

"We're already in a meeting," Robin said. "Can you leave, please?"

Emma looked back at Regina, expecting her to take over and insist that no, she really must go and speak to this vitally important, imaginary woman. Instead she found her watching her curiously. She was wearing the same expression she always used right before she tricked Emma into working three weekends in a row.

Something visibly clicked, and Regina pressed her lips together.

"Emma," she said, using a strangely soft voice that Emma had never heard before. "Could you come here, please?"

"I…" Emma started, glancing at the two men who were still glaring at her. Without another word, she stepped into the room and let the door snap shut behind her.

Regina smiled at her, which was unnerving in itself, before turning back to their boss.

"Look, Robin," she said, suddenly talking slowly and delicately. "I understand the dilemma we have here. I really do. But there's something you should know."

"Does she really need to be here for this?" Robin asked, jabbing his pen in Emma's direction.

"She does," Regina replied, turning and reaching her hand out. When it grazed Emma's arm, Emma nearly choked. "It involves her."

"Fine," Robin sighed, running his hands through his hair. "What is it?"

This was the dumbest thing she'd ever done, but it was her only shot. Regina thought back to Canada – to her mother, to her loveless childhood home, to the grave of her father that she wasn't even allowed to visit – and straightened her shoulders.

"We're getting married."

Silence followed. Three sets of eyes stared at her.

Eventually Robin cleared his throat. "Who is?"

"We are," Regina replied, her grip on Emma's arm getting tighter. She turned to look at her and found her staring wide-eyed back at her, her hands dangling aimlessly by her sides. "Me and Emma."

Something that sounded like an air raid siren was screaming inside Emma's head, and before she could stop herself, she was choking out, "We are?"

"We are," Regina replied firmly. "It's okay, Emma – I know I told you we had to keep it a secret, but the cat's out of the bag."

Two startled green eyes were still staring at her. When they saw that Regina wasn't messing around, they blinked furiously.

"Yeah," she said eventually. "We… are."

The grip on her arm got slightly looser.

"Sorry," Robin said, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Isn't she your secretary?"

"Assistant," Emma corrected automatically. Regina ignored her.

"Yes, she's my secretary."

"And you're engaged to her?"

"Yes," Regina said, smiling brightly. "I know it's not exactly encouraged, but it happened. We spent too many late nights in the office together, and we fell in love. I'm not going to apologise for it."

She was a good actress, Emma had to admit, although she was still floundering several paces behind her. Robin glanced over at her right at that second, and she forced herself to smile back at him.

"Right," she agreed.

After a beat, Robin turned to Dr Hopper. "Would this make a difference?"

"I mean… sure," he stammered, rummaging through his notes. "If it gets made official quickly, it would change everything. Regina could stay permanently."

Those words sent relief tingling down Regina's spine, and she stroked Emma's arm without thinking about it.

"I mean, we weren't planning on getting married for a while. But given the current situation, I'm sure we can speed things along," she said, turning to face Emma again. "Right, honey?"

Emma visibly shuddered before she forced herself to nod.

"Great," Regina replied, turning back to the desk. "So, what do we need to do?"

"Go to immigration services," Dr Hopper replied. "Right now. We need to get this taken care of as soon as possible."

"No problem. And," Regina lowered her voice, looking back at Robin. "There aren't going to be any… issues with this?"

"I mean – of course, it's not _ideal_ ," Robin said, suddenly chortling like a governor in a cigar lounge. "But we've all fallen for our secretaries before, right?"

Dr Hopper wrinkled his nose. No one responded.

"It'll be fine, Regina," Robin clarified. "But get it taken care of. Right away."

"Of course," Regina said, her voice simpering and perfect. "We'll leave you to your work, then."

She turned and marched out the door, her chin high and her face plastered with a self-satisfied smirk. Emma stayed exactly where she was, her feet frozen and her mouth still slightly open, until she heard a voice snap " _Emma_ " from behind her.

Emma managed to make it all the way to the elevator before she said, "So… What the hell was that?"

Regina's face was a picture of composure.

"What?" she asked.

"What do you mean, what? Why am I marrying you all of a sudden?"

"Oh. That doesn't concern you."

"I beg your pardon?"

Regina sighed, the impatience heaving out of her. "They were going to deport me, Miss Swan. My visa expired."

"Right. So of course I would have to marry you."

"Yes, because I can't work for Rocinante from Canada and I need someone dumb and all-American to get me a green card," Regina replied briskly. "It's not a big deal, alright? Consider it part of your job description."

"My—?" Emma spluttered. The elevator reached their floor and Regina suddenly strode off, leaving Emma to trail behind her until they were finally safe inside her office. "Regina. I'm not marrying you."

"Of course you are."

"You can't force me to."

"No, but I can gently remind you that you've been tolerating me for two years so far because you dream of being an editor, and if you refuse to do this for me, I'll find a way to fire you for negligence or embezzlement or something equally damning that ensures you never find a publishing job again," Regina said, plopping herself down behind her desk. "And I think you'd prefer it if I didn't do that."

"You just fired Sidney for blackmailing you," Emma said slowly. "And now you're blackmailing me?"

"Yes, only I'm doing it so much better than he did." Regina's smile was infuriatingly smug, and Emma longed to slap it off of her.

"You can't do this."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic. You're not even dating anyone at the moment – you'll marry me, we'll live apart for a year, and then when the immigration office is finally convinced I'm not a terrorist, we'll get a quickie divorce and we'll never speak of it again. It won't even affect you."

She was talking so rationally, and it was making Emma's temples throb. She tried to soothe them with her fingertips.

"Regina – please take a moment to think about this."

"I don't have a moment. We need to go to USCIS office."

"Both of us?"

"Of course," Regina said, grabbing her purse. "You're my doting fiancée, remember?"

"I'm not going—"

"Come along, Miss Swan. You heard the boss – this needs taking care of right away," Regina interrupted. "And do you know what happens if you refuse? I get deported, and Sidney gets put in charge. You remember Sidney? The man whose life you just helped me ruin?"

Blood was rushing through Emma's skull like the worst kind of waterslide. "I didn't do anything!"

"The second he's in charge, he'll fire you, and I won't be able to stop him. You know I'm not lying."

She wasn't. Her jaw was set in a firm line and her eyes weren't blinking.

When Emma didn't reply, Regina said, "So, here's what's going to happen – you're going to come with me now, you're going to lie to the immigration people, and you're going to save my job. And maybe – _maybe_ – once you've helped me with this, I might consider helping you in return."

Emma's ears suddenly pricked up. "Sorry?"

"One favour," Regina replied, shrugging her coat on. "Nothing disgusting."

"If I help you?"

"Yes, but you have to agree right now and you need to stop wittering on about your moral compass."

She pushed open the office door without another word. Emma watched her go, her long black coat flapping behind her and her stupidly shiny hair glinting under the strip lighting. She always wore unnecessarily high heels, and Emma desperately wished she would trip. Watching her fall flat on her face might be the only thing to cheer her up right then.

But she didn't, and she also didn't turn back to check whether Emma was following her. She just strode toward the elevator and pressed the button.

Emma waited for another half a second before she groaned and followed, stopping to grab her leather jacket from the back of her chair on the way. When she joined her boss at the elevator, she could sense the smug smile on her face without even looking.

"It's going to be a really good favour," she muttered.

"Sure, Miss Swan," Regina replied. "Whatever you say."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two notes before we begin – firstly, for those of you who read the first chapter immediately after it was published or missed my author's notes that were added a few hours later, please be aware that Regina was originally from Puerto Rico in this story, but now she's from Canada like in the movie.
> 
> Secondly, a lot of people have been asking why I'm probably not going to write any more Swan Queen fics after this one is complete. I've written a long post about this on tumblr explaining all my reasons, and you can find it here: http://starsthatburn.tumblr.com/post/183718409713/starsthatburn-ive-had-a-lot-of-people-asking

 

After a two-hour wait in the visa office, Regina and Emma were finally shown into an interview room. The seat behind the desk was empty, but the table itself was stacked high with papers and files. There were no personal items or family photographs anywhere.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

Regina rolled her eyes, because it was the fifth time Emma had said that since they'd arrived. She'd been bouncy and tense for the entire cab ride over, and it had been a struggle to ignore her – especially when there was the faintest chance that Regina didn't feel too positive about this either.

She pulled out her phone and started scrolling through her emails to distract herself.

"Aren't you nervous?" Emma demanded when she didn't get a response.

"Why would I be nervous? I've got the love of my life here with me."

"Regina, I'm serious. What happens if this doesn't work?"

Regina looked up at her with her flattest stare. "Why wouldn't it?"

"What if they don't believe that we're engaged?"

"I'm a very good actor."

" _I'm_ not. What if they think I'm lying?"

"We'll convince them," Regina sighed like she was already bored of this. "It'll be fine. Stop sweating."

"I'm not _sweating_."

"That's good to hear," a soft voice wafted over from the door. Emma jumped in her seat and turned to find a man watching them. "Am I interrupting?"

He was far older than both of them and had long, scraggly grey hair. The cane in his right fist had a polished gold handle at the top.

"No, of course not," Regina said, standing up to shake his hand. Emma had to be impressed by her sudden charm: she always did know how to switch it on at exactly the right moment. "Regina Mills."

"A pleasure," the man replied without the faintest shred of sincerity in his voice. He sat down at his desk and dumped the file he was carrying onto it before looking up at both of them with cold, grey eyes. "I'm Mr Gold. I'm going to be assessing your case."

He had a strange, lilting accent that was halfway between English and Scottish, and before she could stop herself Emma was blurting out, "They let immigrants judge the fate of other immigrants?"

He glared her into submission. To her left, she felt Regina's spine go rigid.

"So," he continued, opening Regina's file at the first page. Right at the top was a photograph of her as a teenager – her skin looked darker, and her signature polish wasn't there yet. Emma yearned to lean forward and take a closer look. "I have a question to start things off."

Regina smiled back at him. "Go ahead."

"Are you both committing fraud to try and avoid Ms Mills' deportation so that she can keep her position as editor in chief at Rocinante Books?"

The room went eerily quiet. Emma felt the sudden, perverse urge to start laughing.

"Um," Regina said unevenly. "No. Of course not."

"And you?" Gold said, looking at Emma. "Ms...?"

"Swan."

"Are you committing fraud, Ms Swan?"

Emma felt like her throat might be closing up. "No. Absolutely not."

"Where did you get that impression?" Regina asked, leaning forward and pouting her lips just slightly. She looked confused and concerned and Emma couldn't decide whether she wanted to hug her or scream at her.

"We had an anonymous call."

At once, both Emma and Regina scoffed.

"I see," Regina said. "And was that anonymous call from Sidney Glass, by any chance?"

"I don't know, Ms Mills. It was anonymous."

"Look – Mr Gold, Sidney is a former employee whom I unfortunately had to dismiss for his poor work ethic," Regina sighed mournfully. "I'm so sorry he bothered you. He's obviously… not well."

Emma pressed her fist against her mouth and nodded.

"But let's not talk about him," Regina continued, wiping her hands together like she was cleaning the air of that unpleasant topic. "Let's talk about this process. How do we get things straightened out?"

Mr Gold eyed them both for a moment before he spoke again.

"Well," he said. There was far too much tension in that one word. "Let me tell you how this is all going to unfold: first, I'll put you each in a room. I'll ask you questions – a lot of questions. I'll ask you everything that a real couple would know about each other, and then I'll compare your answers. If even one tiny thing doesn't match up – that will cause a problem."

Emma's entire body had frozen, but she didn't let her face show it. When he didn't get a response, Gold continued.

"Next, I'll dig deeper. I'll look at your phone records, interview your neighbours, talk to your co-workers. I'll look at your text conversations, your Facebook profiles, your travel histories. And if anything – _anything_ – doesn't look right, your application will be denied, and you will be deported indefinitely, Ms Mills."

Emma glanced to her left to find Regina looking totally calm. When she turned back to Gold, he was watching her.

"And you, Ms Swan," he continued coolly, "will have committed a felony. Which means you will be punished with a fine of $250,000 and a five-year stay in federal prison."

He finished off this speech with a smile that displayed his crooked teeth.

"So," he said, arching his fingers. "Now that you know all of this – is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Regina looked calmly over at Emma, who was staring back at the man across the desk like he'd just admitted to murdering her entire family. Her fingers were curled around the edge of her seat and her knuckles had turned white.

For a long, terrifying moment, Regina thought she was going to cave. When Emma's mouth slowly opened, she braced herself.

"What I'd like to tell you," Emma said, pausing to clear her throat. "Is that… I love this woman. We fell for each other when we shouldn't have, but it happened, and I want to marry her."

Regina beamed, turning to look at Mr Gold once more. His eyes had narrowed.

"You're sure about that?"

"Yes, sir. Very sure."

Gold slammed the file shut. "And I shouldn't read anything into the fact that no one at your shared office, where you've worked together for two years, knows anything about this?"

"No," Emma said, fisting her hands between her knees and squeezing. Preparing herself for the riskiest lie she'd ever told, she took a deep breath and said, "We couldn't tell anyone because of my promotion."

Finally, she felt Regina's cool demeanour drop.

"Promotion?" Gold asked.

"Yeah – you see, Regina decided it was time to promote me to editor," Emma continued, pleased that her voice wasn't shaking. Regina had turned to glare at her. "But if the office knew about our relationship, they might take it the wrong way."

"I see," Gold replied. "So you were planning to keep your love a secret forever?"

"Not forever – just until it became more appropriate. It's not really anyone's business, right?"

"...right. So, does anyone know?"

"Have you told anyone, babe?" Emma asked her boss, forcing herself not to laugh when Regina's features visibly soured.

"No," Regina replied, plastering on another smile. "Once you tell one person, it starts to spread."

Gold scribbled something down in her file. "You mean to say that your family doesn't even know?"

"I don't have any family, Mr Gold. Maybe you should read my file again."

After shooting her a positively poisonous look, Gold turned to Emma again. "What about you, Ms Swan? Does your family know?"

"Not yet – we were going to tell them when we go to visit this weekend."

"Right," Regina caught on at once. "It's Emma's parents' 25th anniversary. The whole family's going to be there."

"A nice long weekend with everyone I love," Emma continued. Regina tried not to grimace at her simpering tone.

"I see," Gold said. "And where is the joyous occasion taking place, Ms Mills?"

He'd deliberately asked her to try and trip her up, but thankfully Regina remembered laughing hysterically on the day Emma had told her where she'd grown up. It was the first and last time Emma had shared any personal information with her.

"Storybrooke," Regina replied, staring levelly back at him. "Maine."

Gold's expression really curdled at that. He leaned back in his chair with a drawn-out sigh.

"Fine," he said, grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling something on it. "If that's how this is going to be, I'll see you both on Wednesday morning for your scheduled interview. If I were you, I'd start practicing your answers."

He held out the appointment slip, which Regina took with a serene smile. Without asking whether they were done, she hopped up out of her chair and headed for the door.

Emma stayed where she was, frozen in place by Gold's icy sneer. Then, from the corridor, she heard Regina bellow, "Emma, _darling_ , are you coming?" She leapt up at once.

"Nice to meet you," she muttered, heading for the door.

"I'll be checking up on you, Ms Swan," Gold replied. She could feel his gaze burning into her shoulder blades. "Don't get too comfortable."

* * *

Emma managed to wait until they were outside the building before crumpling into a heap on a nearby bench.

"So," Regina said crisply, approaching her side and seemingly not noticing that she was having an emotional breakdown three feet away. "Did you already get around to cancelling your flight to Maine?"

"I wasn't flying," Emma mumbled, her hands pressed over her face. She felt like there was an alarm clock ringing inside her chest. "I have a car."

"You're flying now. I'm not going anywhere in that metal coffin on wheels," Regina said, whipping out her phone. "You can use the company account to buy both tickets, but make sure we're actually sat together. Gold will be checking that. Also, if I find myself in a middle seat, I'll fire you."

Emma groaned into her palms. It was only then that Regina looked down at her.

"What?" she demanded, eyeing her slumped posture and pale cheeks. "What's the matter with you?"

She was somewhat surprised by just how venomously Emma managed to glare back at her.

"What's the _matter_ with me?" she asked, finally removing her hands from her face. "You were in that meeting, right? You heard what he said?"

"Of course I heard. Why are you acting so shocked by it?"

"Because I'm looking at jail time and a quarter of a million dollars in fines, Regina," Emma snapped, standing up. "Don't you think that changes things?"

"Not really, no."

"Not for you – for _me_ ," Emma barked at her. "God, can't you think of someone besides yourself for once?"

Regina staggered back a step on her perilously high heels. In the two years she'd known her, Emma had never snapped at her – not once. There had been plenty of withering scowls and bitchy emails to Elsa that she obviously thought her boss didn't have access to, but Emma knew which battles to fight and she knew that her job would always be in a precarious position with someone as fickle as Regina in charge of her. She did her work and kept her mouth shut, and she most likely took out her frustration by hurling darts at a photograph of her boss as soon as she got home. And that worked just fine for Regina.

Right then, though, it looked like something had changed. Emma's jaw was firm and her eyes were angry. She looked like she'd just survived a near-death experience and had come out of it with a strange score to settle.

She was being a little dramatic, quite frankly.

"Emma, relax. They're not going to arrest you," Regina said, rolling her eyes. "Pretty little blonde things like you don't end up in jail."

"I'm glad you're willing to risk that, but I'm not."

"So you're bailing on me?"

"No, but I'm calling in my favour. Right now."

Regina sighed loudly and folded her arms. "Fine. What?"

"The promotion to editor."

"Oh, right – that was actually a very clever lie."

"I know. And now I expect you to give it to me."

"Excuse me?" Regina scoffed. "No. Not happening."

"Well, then I quit. Problem solved," Emma replied. "Sidney can't fire me, you can't blackmail me, and you'll be screwed. I wonder if Mr Gold will believe you when you show up with Elsa next week and say you've fallen in love with her instead."

Regina felt a crack in her jaw as she gritted her teeth together.

"I'm not making you editor."

"I'd be a damn good one and you know it."

It would take years of torture and someone a great deal more intimidating than Emma Swan to ever make Regina admit that out loud.

When she was met with silence, Emma shrugged and turned away. "Forget it, then. Have a nice life."

She actually started to walk off, and panic rose up in Regina like an overflowing sewer.

"Emma," she hissed. "Come back."

"Nope."

" _Emma_." She was ignored, and Emma kept walking. Regina squeezed her purse to her side and bit out, "Fine, _fine_. I'll do it."

Emma turned around with a shit-eating grin that Regina dearly wanted to smack clean off her face.

"As soon as we get back from Maine," Emma clarified. "Not in five years."

Hardening her jaw, Regina said, "Alright."

"And I know what the other editors make, so don't even try and pawn me off with some intern-level salary."

" _Fine_."

"And when we go to visit my family, you don't get to push me around," Emma continued, taking a step toward her. Regina was watching her with a positively furious expression on her face – having sudden power over her made Emma feel slightly dizzy. "You have to play nice, and you have to let me tell them about us in my own time."

"Yes, fine. Whatever."

"You think you can handle that? Being nice to me for four whole days?"

"Probably not, no," Regina snapped. "Not if you're going to be like this."

"Let's practice, then. Give me a doting smile."

"Emma."

"Go on," Emma nodded for her to continue. "My mom is romance-obsessed and annoyingly observant. You need to look like you're devoted to me, otherwise she won't even let you in the house."

The idea of being devoted to this woman made Regina's gag reflex activate of its own accord, but she threw her a simpering smile just to show willing.

"Very nice," Emma said. "Now, I want you to ask me very, very nicely if I'll marry you."

Regina's smile dropped at once. "What?"

"You heard. Ask me to marry you."

"Why do I—?"

"Because we rushed into this engagement, and I need to know you're serious about me."

Emma surprised herself with just how petty she was being, but it was worth it to see the expression on Regina's face. She was digging her fingernails into her palms – probably to stop herself from reaching out and slapping her – and there was a small tic forming just beneath her left eye.

Eventually she bit out in an impatient, hurried voice, "Will you marry me?"

"No," Emma sighed dramatically. "You think that was good enough?"

"Oh, for the love of God. What do you want from me?" Regina snapped. "Do I have to get down on one knee to make you happy?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Emma was already smirking.

"Actually, that's a great idea," she said, shoving her hands into her pockets and waiting. People were rushing past them, and Regina's skin crawled with humiliation at the mere thought of them seeing her do that.

But she recognised the sick glimmer of dominance in Emma's eye, and her immediate reaction was to push back against it. She wasn't going to let some scrawny twenty-something with too-long hair and the posture of a teenage boy beat her.

Smiling serenely, Regina lowered herself down to the ground. She was wearing a tight skirt and quickly realised that landing on one knee was going to be impossible, so she settled for clattering down onto both of them. Emma was watching her cheerfully as people began to stare.

"How's this?" Regina asked.

"Oh, yeah. That'll do just fine."

"Excellent, excellent," Regina replied, sucking down her shame. Lifting her chin and flashing Emma her perfectly straight teeth, she said, "Emma?"

"Yes, Regina?"

"Will you please," Regina said as sweetly as possible, "do me the honour of marrying me?"

Emma pretended to gasp with delight. "You mean it? You're finally ready to take this leap with me?"

Oh, how Regina longed to punch her.

"It would make me the happiest woman in the world."

People were still watching their curious interaction, which only made the whole thing so much better for Emma. "And you promise you won't sleep with my best friend again?"

Someone audibly gasped. Regina turned to glare at them before saying, "…yes. I promise."

"And what about the drinking? Are you going to get that under control?"

Regina took a deep breath and forced herself to reply. "Darling, I promise."

"Great," Emma shrugged. "Then I guess I'll marry you, yeah."

"Wonderful."

Regina reached out to try and get Emma to help her back up, but she was already walking away.

"I'm going back to work," she threw over her shoulder. "If you need a coffee, get it yourself."

She left Regina floundering on the sidewalk, her knees all but strapped together by her own skirt and her pride lying somewhere in the dirt beside her.


	3. Chapter 3

They left for Portland on Friday morning. It was a short flight, but as it was the beginning of the longest weekend of Emma's life, she couldn't help but wish they were flying to the South Pole instead.

That desire grew exponentially when Regina tugged a binder out of her carry-on 10 minutes into the flight and said, "You need to learn all of this."

Emma looked over at it. "What the hell is that?"

"It's the questions they might ask us during our interview on Wednesday," Regina said, opening it to the first page. "If we're going to pass, we need to learn all of this about each other."

With a snort of derision, Emma yanked the binder out of her hands and scanned the list.

"I already know all of this."

"You do not."

"Regina, I've been ordering your lunch and booking you theatre tickets for two years. I know you pretty well."

"Just because you know that I prefer dramas to comedies doesn't mean you know me," Regina replied, snatching the folder back. "I bet I could fail you with my first question."

Emma folded her arms. "Try me."

"Alright," Regina said, scanning the list for a good one. "What's my favourite colour?"

"Purple," Emma said right away. "You pretend it's black, though, because you like to think of yourself as a Disney villain."

Regina glared at her before finding another one. "What was the name of my childhood pet?"

"You never had a pet."

"No?"

"Your mom was a psycho," Emma replied, using Regina's own words from multiple occasions. "And she hated all living things. You rode horses for a while but you didn't own them. And your first one was called Daniel."

Pressing her lips together, Regina turned back to the list.

"Favourite food?"

"Salted caramel ice cream."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"It's what you tell me to go out and get for you whenever you're in a bad mood. Or you're about to start your period," Emma said. Before Regina could question her again, she added, "You also send me out to get your tampons."

Regina looked like her head was about to explode over the fact that she was losing this game, but she went back to the list and found something harder.

"Who's my favourite judge on _The Voice_?"

With a wrinkle of derision in her nose, Emma said, "There's no way you've ever seen _The Voice_."

"I have," Regina protested, before quietly adding, "Once."

"Oh, really? And who was your favourite judge?"

"If you don't know then I'm not going to tell you."

"Right. Because that's an answer that will sway Gold."

Regina brushed over the fact that she didn't _have_ an answer by finding a new topic. "Oh, okay – this a good one. Tell me: what am I embarrassed about?"

It was the perfect question, because she'd never shown embarrassment about anything in her life. She prided herself on being stoic and dignified wherever she went, even when Emma was making her kneel down in the fucking street just to gain the upper hand.

She turned to Emma expectantly, and was surprised to find her looking slightly uncomfortable.

"What?"

"Nothing," Emma said, glancing away. "Do you actually want me to answer that?"

"Of course I do. You don't know the answer."

The smugness in her voice stripped Emma of all her temporary sensitivity.

"Fine. You're embarrassed by the fact that you don't know how to swim."

That instantly stopped Regina in her tracks. She opened her mouth to protest, then realised that all her words had left her. Her mouth felt dry.

" _If_ that's true," she said eventually, "that doesn't mean I'm embarrassed by it."

"You booked lessons last year. You wouldn't try and learn now if you weren't embarrassed."

"Well, then your initial statement was wrong – if I've had lessons, I must know how to swim."

"They called me saying they'd received your message cancelling, and wanted to know if you'd like to reschedule," Emma replied. "And as far as I'm aware, you never did."

Regina was watching her with flared nostrils and slightly sucked-in cheeks. The newly pink tinge to her skin told Emma that she'd gotten this one right too.

"Now, as your fiancée," Emma said, trying to lighten the mood, "I feel like I should know exactly why that is."

Her boss immediately turned away from her. "Nope."

"Come on. Baby Regina must have loved the beach."

"You know, you really are obnoxious," Regina replied, hoping dry sarcasm would cover her frantic pulse.

"I know. But you should still tell me."

"All couples have secrets. Maybe this is one of ours."

"Mr Gold isn't going to like that."

"Mr Gold can shove it up his—"

"Hey, how about we see what you know about me," Emma interrupted excitedly, snatching the binder back. "That will be eye-opening for both of us."

"That's easy. I don't know anything."

"And that's going to have to change if you want Uncle Sam to marry us." Emma flicked through a few pages and then asked, "Do I have any brothers or sisters?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know? It's, like, the most basic question you ask someone."

"I do my very best not to ask you any basic questions, Miss Swan," Regina said. After a beat, her curiosity got the better of her. " _Do_ you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No. Only child."

"Well. I should have been able to guess that."

The insult in that sentence was loud and clear, but Emma ignored it.

"Okay – what was the name of my first boyfriend?"

Regina snorted. "You've never dated a man."

"Yes, I have."

"I thought you were a lesbian?"

"Wow, so you do actually know something about me?" Emma rolled her eyes. "I dated a few boys before I realised that, idiot."

"Did you just call your boss an idiot?"

"No, I called my fiancée an idiot."

Regina glared at her. "You know, I really hate you like this."

"You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you," Emma said coolly. "I've been on my best behaviour for two years. Now you finally get to see the real me."

"Lucky me," Regina muttered.

They fell into silence for a minute. Emma kept flicking through the binder, trying to work out just how at risk they were of both getting thrown into prison. She was actually fairly confident that she was going to pass, which was a scary thought – based on how few civilised conversations she and her boss had shared, she really shouldn't be able to say what her favourite movie was.

Regina, on the other hand, was going to fail. There was no question about it.

"I think I should tell you some stuff about me," Emma said. Regina immediately sighed and rolled her head against the back of her seat so she was facing her.

"Why?" she asked flatly.

"Because you do actually need to know how to answer some of these questions."

When Regina just stared blankly at her, Emma decided to plough ahead.

"I was born in Storybrooke and lived there until I was 18. Then I went to college." She paused. "Which school did I go to?"

It would have been amusing to watch the way Regina's face scrunched up with concentration if it hadn't been so deeply insulting.

"Dartmouth?"

"No, Regina. Jesus. I went to Boston," Emma sighed. "You _hired_ me."

"Well, I'm sorry – I don't keep a copy of your resume with me at all times."

Emma rolled her eyes. "So, I went to Boston, and then I went back to Storybrooke for a while because my parents wanted me around to help with the business."

She waited for Regina to ask "What business?" She was left disappointed.

"Do you even know what my parents do?" she asked.

Regina heaved out a sigh that ruffled the papers in Emma's lap. "What does it matter? I'll find out later today anyway."

"Right, but don't you think it'll be better if you know _something_ about my mom before you go cruising up to her?"

"She'll be overcome by my charm the moment she meets me. It won't matter."

"Um," Emma started. "Well. Actually, I'm not entirely sure she will."

"Why not?"

"Because you already have a nickname in our family, and I don't think she's going to stop using it just because two days ago I sprung her with the news that we're actually dating."

"Nickname?" Regina asked. She felt slightly pleased by that – she liked it when people thought about her more than she thought about them. "What is it?"

"The Evil Queen."

Regina's self-satisfied smirk vanished immediately. "I beg your pardon?"

"You don't think it's fitting?"

"Why am I _evil_?"

"Well – let me think," Emma said. "Your general bad attitude. Your intolerance of other people. Your constant demands and bullying. Your belief that the entire world revolves around you and absolutely no one else's life is important."

"I do not think that."

Emma looked pointedly around them at the plane they were on. "I'm being forced to take you to Maine to tell my whole family that I'm marrying you, Regina. Every single second of this trip has been about what you want."

Her boss immediately descended into some kind of sulk, either because she thought Emma was exaggerating or because she knew she wasn't and she didn't like that she had a point. The easiest thing for Emma to do was to ignore her and go back to the binder, focusing on the questions that she knew Regina wouldn't be able to answer and making a mental note to trickle the information into their conversations over the next couple of days.

When they landed, Emma's heart crashed to the tarmac along with the plane. It had been years since she'd last arrived there, and there were plenty of reasons for that. Sure, she would spend most of the trip blaming Regina and her ruthless work schedule, but there were many other things that had been keeping Emma as far away from her hometown as possible. When the seatbelt sign was switched off and Regina immediately leapt to her feet, Emma stayed where she was, rubbing her hands slowly up and down her own thighs.

Regina looked down at her and frowned. "After all that fuss, don't tell me you're not excited to see mommy dearest."

Emma glared back at her. "Of course I am."

"Then what are you waiting for? The oxygen masks aren't going to drop for you now, dear."

With a snarl, Emma unclipped her seatbelt and joined her, grabbing her carry-on from the overhead bin and leaving five-foot-four Regina floundering as she struggled to grasp at her own.

As soon as they got off the plane, the bitching started.

"It's freezing," Regina snapped, gathering her coat around her. The airport hadn't given them a futuristic tunnel from the plane door directly to the terminal, and the fact that Regina had to actually walk down some stairs and onto solid ground had dragged her already-shitty mood down an additional 20 pegs.

"It's April," Emma replied, leading the way into the terminal building. She could hear Regina tottering along behind her, her heels and her baggage both slowing her down as she struggled to tighten her coat. "Besides, aren't you always cold?"

Regina glared at her from behind her scarf and coat and the two sweaters she had on underneath, but didn't respond. Emma just rolled her eyes and kept going, partly hoping that Regina's fragile visa status would get her stopped at customs, leaving Emma to deal with this weekend by herself while her boss was interrogated in a tiny room with no windows.

But she had no such luck, and before she knew it they had collected their suitcases and were approaching the arrivals lounge. Emma could feel her palms starting to sweat.

"What are they called?" Regina suddenly asked her.

Emma kept walking, not offering her a response. After a few seconds Regina hissed, " _Emma_. What are your parents called?"

"I thought you didn't want to know anything about them until the last possible second?"

"This _is_ the last possible second," Regina said, realising that Emma wasn't slowing down. "Your mother has some stupid double-barrel first name, if I recall?"

"Why don't you lead with that question when you see her? Try that exact phrasing," Emma suggested. Before Regina could respond with a catty remark of her own, they'd reached the sliding doors and were stepping out into a crowded room filled with _Welcome home!_ signs and kissing couples and a hundred curious eyes.

Regina took a look around, hoping to spot a mass of blonde curls that perfectly matched Emma's, but came up short. Then she caught sight of a giant cardboard sign with _Welcome back, Emma!_ written on it in a series of glittery inks, and she followed Emma toward it with a groan.

The woman holding it had jet-black hair cut into a pixie crop, and apart from the faintly similar heart-shaped face, she looked absolutely nothing like her daughter. She was beaming and waving excitedly, whereas Emma was slouching toward her with a pained grimace on her lips. Behind Emma's mom was a tall, sturdy-looking blonde man with a scar on his chin and a grin that matched his wife's.

"Emma," the woman gushed, shoving the sign into her husband's hands and throwing herself forward. Emma staggered under the weight of her enthusiastic hug. It took a second for her to remember that she was supposed to return it.

"Hey, Mom," she said, squeezing hard. She suddenly realised that there were tears in her eyes, and she blinked them away before anyone could notice.

When her mother released her, Emma looked up to find her father grinning at her. There were a few specks of silver in his blonde hair and he'd put on weight since she'd last seen him, but otherwise he looked exactly the same.

"Dad," she said, burying herself in his outstretched arms. He smelled the same, too – like pine trees and aftershave and the citrus shower gel that Mary Margaret had been buying him for the past 20 years.

Eventually she remembered that they had an audience, and she wriggled free. She turned to find Regina watching them awkwardly, a half-smile frozen on her lips. For the first time in her life, she looked slightly unsure of herself.

"Regina," Emma said, reaching out and taking her elbow. "These are my parents, Mary Margaret and David. Mom, Dad – this is Regina."

Before either of them could stop it from happening, Mary Margaret was hurtling forward and throwing her arms around Regina's shoulders. Regina dropped her purse in shock.

"It's so lovely to meet you," Mary Margaret gushed, despite what she'd been hissing down the phone about this awful witch five days earlier. "We're so happy you could make it."

When she released her, Regina was wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. She looked nervously at David, who thankfully just reached out for a handshake.

"So, it's Regina, then?" he asked. "We're not going by the Evil Queen anymore?"

Emma glared at him, but Regina had already regained her composure.

"Whichever you prefer," she said, stooping to collect her dropped bag. "Your Majesty also works."

Emma felt weirdly like she'd stepped into her own nightmare when her parents chuckled at the joke.

"In that case, Your Majesty," David said, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. "Right this way."

"Oh, God," Emma muttered as they began to walk across the terminal. "This is my own personal hell."

Regina turned and smirked at her. "They're going to be _devastated_ when the divorce papers come through."

"Shut up."

"Don't tell me to shut up – your parents won't stand for it."

Throwing her a vicious scowl, Emma sped up her walking slightly so she could join her parents instead. David immediately slung an arm around his daughter's shoulders while Mary Margaret bobbed along beside them. Regina watched them with her nose slowly scrunching up.

These were exactly the kind of people who she always tried to distance herself from – the kind of sickly sweet, over-enthusiastic morons who saw the best in everyone and insisted on playing happy families no matter how badly everything was going. Their daughter had just shown up with someone who had made her life miserable for the past two years, and instead of commenting on it or asking Regina what the hell her problem was, they'd simply folded up their collapsible backbones and skipped off like they couldn't be happier to see her.

Still, she thought as Mary Margaret looped her arm in Emma's – it must be kind of nice to have parents who were willing to do that for you.

Something inside her chest twanged and she huffed to get rid of it. Gripping her suitcase slightly harder, she followed her soon-to-be in-laws out the door and toward what she was certain was going to be pure unadulterated hell.

* * *

Once they were all bundled into the family wagon together, things only got worse.

"So, Regina," Mary Margaret chirped from the front seat. "Have you ever been to Maine before?"

Regina forced a smile. "No. This is my first time."

"Well, we do hope you like it. We need to try and get you both back here more often."

Beside her, Emma grimaced. "Mom, come on. It's been 10 minutes."

"Actually, it's been years," Mary Margaret replied, her voice turning just slightly icy for the first time since they'd all met. She quickly shook it off as she went back to addressing Regina. "I hope you like the house. I imagine it's going to be quite different to wherever you live."

She was almost certainly right there – Regina lived in a two-bed apartment in Chelsea, and she could only guess what kind of hovel these strange people called home.

"I'm sure it'll be lovely," she said, using the same voice she always adopted when she needed to butter up a difficult author. "Thank you for having us to stay."

"Well, we weren't going to put you in a hotel," David chuckled. Regina struggled not to sigh at that – she already knew it, since she'd spent the latter half of her week bickering with Emma over how they absolutely had to find a semi-decent B&B to stay in. Emma had snapped back at her that sleeping anywhere besides the family home absolutely wasn't an option, and that Regina could always sleep in the yard if she preferred – they still had a dog house from her childhood, after all.

Regina turned her head and focused on the town that was rushing past her. They weren't quite in Storybrooke yet, but the GPS told them they would be there in 30 minutes. According to Mary Margaret as she wittered on and on, the neighbouring towns were all fairly interlinked.

Regina narrowed her eyes at some of the stores that were sweeping past – she didn't see a single Wholefoods or even a godforsaken Target. Instead, there was a motley collection of independent retailers that looked so saccharine it hurt her teeth to stare for too long.

_Charming Books_ , she read the signs. _Charming Drugstore. Charming Internet Cafe._

"Wow," she said out loud. "I didn't realise there was such a retail monopoly up here."

David smiled at her in the mirror. "How do you mean?"

"All these 'Charming' stores. They don't look particularly charming to me."

The entire car went silent. Beside her, she felt Emma stiffen.

"Em?" Mary Margaret said after a few moments. "You didn't tell Regina about the family business?"

_Oh, shit_. The penny dropped all too loudly and just half a second too slowly.

"They're yours?" Regina looked round at her doting fiancée, who appeared to be ready to hurl herself out of the moving car.

"Err," Emma said, her cheeks turning red. "Well, they're Mom and Dad's."

"And they could have been yours," David said. "If you'd stuck around like we asked you to."

"David," Mary Margaret hissed. "Not now."

Turning away from the rising tension in the car, Regina watched as more and more Charming stores passed them by. There were dozens of them, and they weren't even in the actual town yet – by the time they reached Storybrooke itself, Regina had counted upwards of 40 different supermarkets, clothes stores and restaurants.

She turned to Emma and hissed, "Are you _rich_?"

Emma didn't even look up from her phone. "No."

"Your family has its own Maine retail empire."

"Right. So my family are rich," Emma said. "Not me."

"Not on her salary, anyway," Mary Margaret said from the front of the car. Her tone was cheerful, but it still made Regina flinch.

"Publishing's a rough business," she eventually forced herself to say. A second later, she opened her mouth ready to tell them that, actually, their daughter had been miraculously promoted to editor three days ago, so she wouldn't be on a grubby starting wage for much longer. Before she could say it, though, she caught the tiny shake of Emma's head. She remembered her promise to let Emma tell her parents everything in her own time, and she sighed and slumped back in her seat instead of speaking.

God, all she wanted was for this weekend to be over even though it hadn't really started yet.

It all got so much worse when David stopped the car in some random parking lot near a harbour. Regina climbed out and looked blearily around herself at the sparse concrete and surrounding huts.

"Please tell me you don't live here."

Emma just rolled her eyes and grabbed the bags out of the trunk.

"We live on one of the islands," Mary Margaret said, hopping out the front. "It's just a short boat ride away."

Regina nearly slipped backward into the neighbouring car. "A what?"

While Emma ignored her visible panic, her parents peered curiously over at her. "A… boat ride?"

"Right," Regina stammered, reaching up to pat anxiously at her hair. "Sorry. I just… misheard."

Mary Margaret and David nodded, obviously unconvinced, then turned toward the docks. As soon as they were out of earshot, Regina grabbed their daughter's arm.

"You didn't tell me anything about boats," she hissed.

Emma seemed completely unmoved by her terror and simply thrust one of her bags into her arms.

"Remember on the plane, when I tried to tell you about my home life and you didn't even pretend to be interested?" she asked as Regina dropped the bag to the floor. "If you'd given like, half a shit, maybe you would have had time to prepare for this."

"I'm not getting on a boat."

"Fine. Then stay in that hut over there and I'll pick you up on Monday."

To Regina's horror, Emma turned away and began following her parents down to the jetty. She was pulling two suitcases behind her and had a duffel bag on her shoulder, leaving Regina to deal with one single case that already felt like far too much for her to handle. She gritted her teeth and started dragging it behind her, nearly twisting her ankle in her haste to catch up with the obnoxious blonde who was steaming away from her.

"Hey," she barked as soon as she was back within range. Emma turned to look at her. "You know I can't swim."

"I realise that."

"Then how can you—"

"It's a _boat_ , Regina," Emma interrupted with a loud groan. "It's literally designed so that no swimming is required."

Regina could feel her jaw starting to wobble, so she gritted her teeth together and followed Emma awkwardly along the dock. Her parents had already clambered into a large white speedboat, and David was fiddling with the controls while Mary Margaret brought in the rest of the luggage.

Emma hopped aboard before turning to Regina, who was standing as far away from the boat as possible without toppling into the water on the other side.

"Regina," Emma said, holding out her hand. "Come on. It's okay."

Her voice had gone soft, which Regina knew was only for the benefit of the two people watching them. It did absolutely nothing to stop the anxious sickness inside her from bubbling up.

"There must be another way out there," she said shakily.

"Do you see a two-mile bridge anywhere?"

Regina looked pleadingly at the other two people in the boat, but they were just staring back with bemusement on their faces.

"What's the problem?" David asked.

Before Regina could think of a lie, Emma replied, "She can't swim."

" _Emma_."

"Oh. Well, we have life vests," Mary Margaret said, rummaging for one underneath the nearest bench. "It's a short trip, Regina. We'll be there before you know it."

Regina was starting to realise that she had no choice but to clamber into that death trap and hope her last moments on Earth wouldn't be spent with these three useless people, so she groaned and held out her hand. Emma took it, her grip surprisingly firm as she helped Regina down into the boat.

"Shit," Regina blurted out as soon as she was on board. "Is it meant to be so wobbly?"

No one answered that, but Mary Margaret passed her the life vest. As Regina hurriedly put it on, she heard David mutter to his daughter, "Who the hell hasn't learned to swim by their mid-thirties?"

Eventually they were speeding across the water toward Emma's childhood home. She sat at the front of the boat near her father, who was handling the wheel with a huge grin on his face. It was freezing cold out and the water was icy whenever it sprayed up at them, but Emma had missed the feeling – it was refreshing, and it reminded her of the thousands of times she'd made this trip as a child.

She turned to the back of the boat to check whether Regina was still with them, and found her bundled up beneath her already-inflated life jacket. She was clutching the edge of her seat with both hands.

"You okay?" Emma called out. Regina just scowled back at her, her usually tan skin a sickly shade of grey.

Regina only felt herself get slightly distracted when she noticed which island they were approaching. There was an enormous white house sprawled out across the nearest shoreline, and dozens of other boats were bobbing along at the dock below it. It had its own private beach and what looked like a tennis court near the rear. It was the first time that day that Regina had felt more surprised than horrified.

"That's where you live?" she asked no one in particular. Mary Margaret beamed at her.

"It sure is. David and his father built it just before Emma was born."

Regina stared at it with her mouth slightly open. At the front of the boat, Emma's hair was whipping behind her and her ugly plaid shirt was fluttering in the icy wind. She didn't look rich – she didn't even look like she had _manners_ – but here she was, heir to some kind of goddamn local throne, and she didn't even have the decency to be smug about it.

The second she was on dry land again, Regina reached out for Emma's arm and punched it.

"Ow!" Emma demanded. "What was that for?"

"Why didn't you tell me about any of this?"

"When was I supposed to do that, boss?" Emma asked, leading Regina along the dock and toward the house. "Our conversations always go like this: you. You. You calling me an idiot. You demanding coffee. You making someone cry. You calling me an idiot again. You talking about yourself a little more. You—"

"Alright," Regina snapped. A few paces ahead of them, Mary Margaret and David were happily chatting with their arms interlocked. "I just wish you'd given me a bit of warning. Especially since it seems like the entire town is in there waiting for their king and queen to return."

"What do you mean?"

Regina gestured at all the boats that were surrounding them. "I mean, you appear to have guests."

Seemingly for the first time, Emma realised she might be right.

"Hey, Mom?" she called out, her voice suddenly shrill. "Who do all these boats belong to?"

"The party guests."

"I thought the party wasn't until tonight?"

"Well, it was," Mary Margaret said with a sly giggle. "But then we were so excited about you coming home that we decided to extend it."

She beamed at Regina, and Regina forced herself to smile back.

"That sounds lovely," she said. As soon as Mary Margaret had turned away, she punched Emma's arm again. "It's _all day_?"

"Ow!" Emma snapped. "Will you stop that?"

"You made it sound like it was just going to be a couple of hours!" Regina replied. "I was expecting you to have weird, hippyish parents and a weird, hippyish house, but instead you're, what? One of the Kennedys?"

"You only assumed all of that stuff because you've never taken two seconds to get to know me. If you'd asked one question about me and or my family, you would have known all of this years ago."

"You didn't deserve my questions."

"Oh, great. I'll remember that the next time you're begging me to help you onto a boat."

They were rapidly approaching the house, which was looking bigger and bigger with every step they took. Regina could see people milling around inside and the need to turn and run away as fast as her impractically high heels would carry her suddenly become overwhelming.

"When this is over," she said, "I'm going to kill you."

"Careful, Regina. The first suspect is always the spouse."

Regina growled and tried to summon a witty comeback, but they'd reached the front door and Emma was yanking it open. Cheers erupted from inside the foyer, and when Regina followed Emma into the house she found herself confronted with dozens of excited faces, all of them beaming back at her.

"Darling!" An old woman was grabbing hold of Emma and kissing both cheeks. "You're so tall!"

"We barely recognise you."

"You look so thin, dear. Do they not feed you in New York?"

They were all descending on Emma with their comments and questions getting louder and louder, and Regina felt herself shrinking back against the closed door. No one had spotted her yet – maybe they didn't even know she was coming – and she briefly wondered if she could sprint for the boat again without anyone noticing.

But then Emma goddamn Swan turned around, caught her eye, and held out her hand.

"Everyone," she said, gesturing for her to step forward. Regina reluctantly did so, plastering on her most professional smile. "This is Regina."

What felt like a thousand sets of eyes landed on her, each more excited than the last. When she rustily said "Hello," every single person in the room beamed back at her.

She swallowed hard.

_Well, shit._


	4. Chapter 4

The house was filled wall-to-wall with people. Regina had approximately one second to note to herself that she couldn't imagine anything worse than having this many friends, and then she was being swept up by them all.

"Regina!" one woman yelped, hugging her tightly. Regina forced herself to return the embrace even though the woman smelled like baked potatoes. "It's so great to meet you."

"This is Eugenia," Emma helpfully interjected. "Also known as Granny."

Regina glanced at her. "Your granny?"

"Nope. Everyone's granny."

Before Regina could respond to that, someone else was swooping in to hug her. She didn't catch their name before they started yammering on about how wonderful it was that Emma had finally found someone willing to date her.

"Gee, thanks," Emma huffed, stepping away and taking Regina with her. Her hand had slipped around Regina's elbow, and Regina was surprised to find that she was slightly grateful for it. "Some of my old school friends are over there – let's go say hi."

Regina dutifully followed her through the room, stopping to talk to nearly everyone and losing track of the names and relationships immediately. Emma was different there to how she was in New York – in the office, it was all curt sentences and withering scowls and unironed shirts tucked into dress pants. Here, something about her seemed slightly bolder. She was smiling, for one, which was increasingly rare in the Rocinante office. She was also talking more than she'd done in the last two years combined.

When they were finished with the latest group of people, Emma turned and began to walk off. Regina immediately scurried after her, sticking close to her side.

Emma blinked at her. "What are you doing?"

The way Regina looked down at the two inches of space between them told her that she didn't know either.

"We're supposed to be a couple, right?" she said after a beat. "I'm just pretending to like you."

That earned her another roll of Emma's eyes. "You know, it's weird seeing you talk to people like an actual human."

"I talk to plenty of people like a human, thank you – just not you."

"Other than when you're trying to manipulate someone in some way, I don't think I've ever seen you crack a smile."

Regina scowled at her. "Try being amusing or charming and then maybe you'll get lucky."

"Sure," Emma scoffed. "I'll get right on that."

"Who the hell _are_ all these people, anyway? Why do they all look so enchanted to see you again?"

"Because I'm a fucking delight, Regina. This is what it looks like when people enjoy having you around."

That actually hurt Regina somewhere deep in her chest, but instead of acknowledging it, she just muttered, "Or they're happy to have their resident freak show back again."

Without so much as a pause, Emma grabbed her arm and yanked her into a nearby corner. The room was still heaving and people could easily see them, but it was the only spot available where they at least couldn't be heard.

"What is your _problem_?" Emma demanded. "I'm doing everything you wanted – I'm here, I'm lying to everyone I know, and I'm going to help you through this entire stupid ordeal. Why are you acting like you're the one doing me a favour?"

The fact that she absolutely had a point was the last thing on Regina's mind, because she was tired and she was anxious and she was pretty sure her hair was still a mess from that fucking boat ride.

She lifted her chin and said, "Meeting your entire family was not part of my proposal."

"Proposal? You didn't _propose_ anything – you blackmailed me into helping you."

"That's just semantics. The point is, I don't want to be here and I don't think it's necessary. We could have had our interview with Gold by now if you hadn't insisted on coming."

"Well, tough shit, because we're here and you're going to deal with it. I don't think it's unreasonable for me to want to see my parents for their wedding anniversary, and it will probably be good for you to have to suppress your sociopathic qualities for a weekend."

"I do _not_ have sociopathic qualities."

Emma laughed out loud at that, which just made Regina snap, " _Emma_."

"What? Are you seriously painting yourself as some kind of Mother Teresa figure just because you showed up here?"

"It's not any more ridiculous than you acting like I'm a villain just because I wish I hadn't."

"Regina," Emma hissed, looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping before she stepped nearer to her. "Stop it. This weekend is already going to be awful and I don't need you swiping at me every five seconds."

"Why is it going to be awful?" Regina asked. Emma was still leaning close to her, so she decided to reciprocate by pushing herself right into Emma's space until their noses were nearly touching. "You know, anyone would think you're not even happy to see mommy and daddy again."

Emma's eyes flashed with fury and she opened her mouth to respond. A squeak from several paces away cut her off in her tracks.

"Oh, sorry!" Mary Margaret stammered. Emma sprung away from Regina like they were teenagers who'd been caught making out on the couch. "I didn't mean to interrupt a moment."

Regina tried not to groan out loud. Instead, she screwed on her coolest smile. "Don't worry. We were just discussing something."

"Looked like a pretty intimate discussion," Mary Margaret replied. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes kept flicking back and forth between the two of them. Their faces had been so close together and their lips were still pursed and animated. "I was just coming to ask what you wanted to drink."

"Wine," Emma blurted out immediately. "Red. Please."

Taking no notice of the fact that it was barely lunchtime, Regina nodded, "The same, thanks."

Mary Margaret shuffled off, leaving Emma to collapse back against the wall with a groan.

"Jesus."

"What?" Regina asked. "She thinks we're dating. Now she thinks we actually kiss sometimes. Is that a problem?"

"No, I guess it's not." Emma looked strangely morose. "It's just…"

She cut herself off when she realised who she was talking to and how stupid it was to admit anything remotely personal to her. Regina was watching her with her eyebrows raised, and when she didn't get an explanation, she huffed loudly.

"Well. Thanks for sharing, I guess."

"It's none of your business," Emma snapped. "You don't get to dig around in my private life just because some binder wants you to."

Regina glanced across at the busy room and caught three people looking at them. She smiled weakly before turning back to Emma.

"Look," she said, her voice quieter. "We have to stop this. We need to act like we're in love."

Emma looked disbelievingly back at her. "You're giving _me_ a lecture on how to behave in public?"

"No," Regina replied, heaving out a sigh. "We both need to work harder at this. All the bickering has to stop, otherwise no one will ever believe we're together."

She was right, of course, but Emma was still smarting from the way her mother had looked at the pair of them. She'd seen the frantic smile. She'd also seen what it was covering up.

"I guess," she said, looking down at her shoes. "It's going to be hard, though. You're a real pain in my ass."

"I know," Regina said simply. "But I'll tone it down, okay? As long as you promise to stop making irritating comments and try to act as if you actually like me."

"Will you be able to recognise it when I do? You know, since it's never happened before?"

Regina glared at her. "Your parents seem to love me, thank you very much."

"That's because they're naive," Emma replied, before adding, "And because they don't know that you're going to be their daughter-in-law yet. I hope their opinion doesn't change once I tell them the happy news."

A huge crash from several paces away interrupted them, and they both turned to see that Mary Margaret had returned with their drinks. Both of the glasses were smashed on the floor, and red wine was seeping across the wood like someone had just split an artery.

Emma froze. "Oh."

Everyone in the room was looking over at them, but no one said a word. Eventually Mary Margaret was the one to break the silence.

"You're…?" she started. There was a pause while she swallowed. "You're getting married?"

Emma recognised that look from another equally painful conversation several years earlier.

Her heart was already pounding. This wasn't how she wanted it to go at all: she knew her parents wouldn't be thrilled by the news, and she knew they would need some time to warm up to the idea, which was why she'd wanted to get through the weekend and hopefully get them to like – or, hell, even just tolerate – Regina before she told them that they were engaged. She hadn't wanted it to come spilling out like a dirty secret whispered in the back of a classroom.

But she couldn't deny it, so she did the only thing possible: she grabbed Regina's hand and squeezed it. "Yeah. We are."

Regina didn't even flinch at her sudden touch, because the look on Mary Margaret's face was holding all of her attention. She looked shocked and confused and, worst of all, hurt. She looked like she might be about to turn around and walk out.

What she actually did was worse: she burst into tears.

"Oh, Emma," she said, stepping over the ruined floor and gathering her daughter up into a hug. "I'm so happy for you."

A flash of surprise crossed Emma's face. "You are?"

"Of course I am," Mary Margaret said, still clinging on. "I just wish you'd said something."

"I was… I just…" Emma stammered, glancing over at Regina and suddenly realising that they were still holding hands. She snatched her fingers away at once. "We were going to tell you later this weekend – we just didn't want to ruin the party."

"You could never ruin it," Mary Margaret said, pulling away and cupping her daughter's cheeks just a tad too firmly. She suddenly remembered that Regina was with them and turned to her, yanking her into her own vigorous hug. "I'm a little surprised, obviously, but I'm thrilled for you both."

Then, barely a second later, she was pulling away and yelling, "David!"

Emma and Regina both edged back a step as they waited for him to appear from the kitchen. He took one look at the spilled wine and chuckled.

"We're at that stage already, are we?"

"David," Mary Margaret gabbled, waving him over. "Emma has news."

"Really?"

He looked at his daughter expectantly. When she didn't speak, Regina turned to glance at her.

Emma was frozen, staring back at him with wide eyes and her teeth buried in her lower lip. Mary Margaret had stopped crying, but it looked like someone else might be about to start.

The silence stretched on, and before she could stop herself Regina was reaching out to grab Emma's hand again. "Go on, darling."

That snapped Emma out of her trance, and she plastered on a smile. "We're… engaged."

David's own grin slipped. "Who?"

"Us. Me and Regina."

"You and…?" David started, then realised he was staring. "Oh. Right. Isn't that a little… soon?"

Regina felt Emma's grip on her hand tighten momentarily. "Yeah, I guess it is pretty fast. But we're happy and we're in love and… I hope you're okay with it."

The shock on David's face lessened slightly.

"Of course I'm okay with it," he said. After an uncomfortable pause, he added, "But does this mean you're not coming back?"

Regina glanced at Emma just in time to see the disappointment on her face. She slowly let go of her hand.

"No, Dad. I'm not coming back."

"Right," he nodded sharply, looking down at the wine that was still sinking into the floorboards. After a moment, he visibly shook himself. "Anyway – this is great news. Congratulations."

Finally, the rest of the room was able to exhale. A few people clapped as David stepped forward and kissed his daughter on the cheek, then did the same with Regina. Regina breathed a sigh of relief, expecting Emma to follow suit, but instead she just kept smiling uncertainly. She wasn't looking at anyone in particular as she waited for the pounding in her chest to subside.

As they finally began cleaning up the mess on the floor, Emma reassured herself with the fact that she might be off the hook. They'd gotten the awkward conversation over and done with quickly, and although it hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped, at least she wouldn't have to spend the entire weekend dreading it.

But then someone chirped from across the room, "So, aren't you going to tell us the story?"

She looked up from the ruined floor. "What story?"

"Of how you got engaged!"

"Oh," Emma said, looking blindly at Regina. To her annoyance, she was already smirking.

"Oh, yes, Emma," Mary Margaret gushed, leaving her husband to finish picking up the shards of glass as she dragged Emma and Regina over to the couches. "Please tell us. Who proposed? When did it happen?"

Emma looked at Regina again, hoping for some kind of assistance, but received absolutely none.

 _Right_ , she thought. _If that's how we're going to do this._

"I proposed," Emma said. "But Regina should really tell the story. She _loves_ talking about it."

Regina's face darkened just as Emma happily plopped herself down on the couch beside her mother.

"Right," Regina said, glaring at her fiancée before turning to the rest of the room. Everyone was watching, and she felt her stomach tighten. "Should I do the long version or the short version?"

"Long," Emma said at once.

"Right. Thanks, _honey_ ," Regina said, turning back to her willing audience. David was still squatting down cleaning up the spilled wine, but even he looked up to listen to her.

She took a moment to think of the most embarrassing lie possible. Then she smiled.

"So," she said evenly. "As I'm sure most of you know, Emma is obsessed with the movie _Enchanted_."

Emma spluttered immediately.

Mary Margaret looked curiously back at Regina. "Is she?"

"She is," Regina said, then looked at Emma and pretended to gasp with realisation. "Oh, no – had you been keeping that a secret from your family, Emma?"

Through gritted teeth, Emma said, "…I guess so."

"Anyway, the cat's out of the bag now," Regina waved a hand. "So, Emma likes to watch it at least once a month and act out the dance routines, so I suspected her proposal would have something to do with it."

Emma was glaring at her like she was considering strangling her in front of her entire extended family, but she didn't say a word.

"One evening I got home from work and found a horse and carriage waiting outside my apartment," Regina said. She had no idea where she was going with this, but based on how many embarrassing scenarios she'd imagined putting Emma in over the years, it was easy to take some of her favourites and adjust them to suit the purpose. "Emma was nowhere to be seen. But the driver told me to get in, so I did, and eventually found myself in Central Park. After a few moments, I heard a noise and then Emma was joining me. She was wearing Prince Edward's costume from the movie – you know, the red one with the huge, puffy sleeves?" she added, directing the question at Mary Margaret. She was looking increasingly confused, her gaze flicking between her daughter and Regina.

"I don't…" she started slowly. "I don't think I've seen the movie."

"Oh, you _should_ ," Regina continued with a wistful sigh. "Anyway – I find Emma there in her fairy tale costume, which I immediately knew she'd hand-stitched herself to get it just right. And—"

"I think," Emma finally cut in. Her eyes were narrowed. "You should mention the fact that it was all a ruse."

Regina smirked. "Should I?"

"Mm," Emma said, standing up to join her. "I know Regina hates all that stuff, so I thought it would be funny to make her think I was doing it seriously. Really it was just another one of our _adorable_ jokes."

Everyone in the room fluttered with relief.

"Oh, I see," Mary Margaret said, shuffling forward until she was perched on the very edge of the couch. "So, what happened?"

"I took the ridiculous outfit off," Emma said before Regina could say anything else to humiliate her. "And I joined Regina in the carriage. It took us into this secluded part of the park, so naturally—"

"I thought we were going to get murdered," Regina interrupted dramatically. "It was pitch black and there was no one else around, and the carriage suddenly took off and left us. I thought that's how we were going to die."

"But I had it all under control," Emma interjected. "It was all part of my plan."

"Except I didn't know that, so it turned into a huge fight."

Everyone in the room was watching them with bewilderment, and Emma suddenly realised that they were all going to leave the party thinking that she truly was the most romantically incompetent person of all time. They probably wouldn't stop talking about it for weeks.

She grabbed Regina's hand, which startled her enough to shut her up for five seconds.

"But once I'd gotten this drama queen to calm down," Emma said, digging her nails into the back of Regina's hand to stop her from interrupting again, "I led her through the trees and into another area, where there was a beautiful little fountain. I led Regina over, and that's when all the holiday lights I'd strung up earlier came on."

There was a dramatic gasp of pleasure from the cheap seats. Mary Margaret actually pressed her hands over her mouth.

"They were up in the trees and around the path and flowers were floating on the water, because I knew _that's_ what Regina would want," Emma said. "The _Enchanted_ thing was just my bit of fun because I love to mess with her, but really it was everything she wanted – no one watching; no big fanfare. Just us and the park and the lights."

Beside her, Regina had finally stopped talking. Every eye in the room was slightly teary.

"Well," Mary Margaret sighed, clasping her hands together. "I didn't realise I'd raised such a Casanova."

Emma laughed. "I know. I'm as surprised as you are."

"Even Regina looks emotional just from remembering it," someone said. Emma turned to find Regina watching her with a surprised smile that made her chest burn.

"Yeah, well," Emma said, squeezing her hand before finally deciding it was safe to release it. "She's even sappier than I am."

Regina's lips quirked up at the corners of their own accord before she forced herself to drag her gaze back to the rest of the room.

"I'm a lucky woman," she said. "It's just a shame Emma didn't think to size the ring before she bought it."

Everyone laughed together, finally noticing Regina's empty ring finger.

"That sounds more like my Emma," David chuckled. Emma couldn't even find it in herself to be offended.

She shrugged. "We'll get it back in a week or two, and then my reputation as an old romantic will be intact once more."

"You, an old romantic?" Regina snorted softly. She leaned toward Emma and bumped their shoulders together. "Don't get too carried away."

"Hey," someone called out from the back of the room. "How about we see a kiss from the happy couple?"

All at once, Emma's happy bubble burst. She glanced over at Regina, whose smile had frozen into something that looked a little more manic.

With an awkward laugh, Emma turned to her parents and said, "Go on, Mom and Dad. You're the happiest couple here."

"They mean you, silly," Mary Margaret said with a shake of her head. "Come on."

"Ew, what is this? Some kind of voyeur party?"

"Emma," David warned. "Make your mother happy, will you?"

With a low grumble, Emma turned to Regina. She'd already regained her composure and was watching her with an amused smirk on her face.

"Come on, babe," Emma said flatly. "The perverts want a show."

Realising that she and her dubious visa status had no other option, Regina nodded and leaned forward. There was a split second of hesitation from both of them, and then they crossed over the final bridge into _oh, fuck – we're actually doing this_ and pressed their lips together.

It was a two-second kiss that felt vaguely like pecking a relative on the cheek, and yet Emma still had sweaty palms when she pulled away.

"There," she announced, turning back to her family before her boss could fire her for sexual harassment. "Happy?"

The hack at the back of the room actually booed. "What the hell was that supposed to be?"

"Emma," Mary Margaret sighed, her eyes glistening. "Please. We want to see a real one."

All of a sudden, Regina found herself feeling overwhelmingly grateful for the fact that she didn't have a family of her own.

She was just about to mutter some kind of barbed comment when Mary Margaret caught sight of the displeasure on her face. "Sorry, Regina – Emma's just never brought a girlfriend home before. We're a little excited."

Regina turned to Emma with wide eyes. "You've _never_ brought someone home before?"

"Err," Emma started. "I mean, technically I—"

"Kiss," the drunk man at the back of the room interrupted. "Properly this time."

With a gigantic groan, Emma turned back to Regina and muttered, "I'm really sorry."

"It's fine," Regina replied in her flattest voice. "Let's just…"

She couldn't find the words to finish that sentence, because this was the most ludicrous thing that had happened to her in the past few years and she knew that trying to wriggle out of it would only make matters worse. They were supposed to be in love, after all. People who were planning on marrying each other probably shouldn't have a problem with kissing, even if it was in front of an entire room of bulging eyeballs.

There was only one way to make them stop, and it had the added benefit of stunning Emma into silence, so rather than saying another word, Regina stepped close to her and slid a hand beneath her hair. It was soft, she realised with a jolt of shock, but before she could fixate on that pleasant surprise, she caught sight of the slightly disbelieving look in Emma's eyes. She leaned forward.

Their lips met again, and this time Regina kissed her slowly. She felt Emma's gasp of surprise before she sunk into it, her hands coming up to rest on Regina's waist as their lips gradually parted.

For a split second, Emma felt the bite of Regina's teeth against her bottom lip, but then it was gone again and she was staggering back, dizzy and hot. Regina was smiling at her. It was a dark and knowing smirk that made Emma's insides bubble and every hair on her body stand on end.

Everyone in the room was clapping like this was some kind of goddamn Hallmark Christmas movie, but Emma couldn't look at anyone except for Regina. Her lips were pink. Her eyes were sparkling.

She looked happy for the first time since Emma had known her, but before she had a chance to realise how deeply sad that was, Emma was distracted by the fact that Regina was still looking curiously at her lips. Beneath her cocky, self-satisfied smirk, there was a surprised expression that suggested maybe the kiss hadn't been as horrible as she'd been expecting. Maybe she'd sort of enjoyed it.

Right at that second, she visibly shook herself and looked up to find Emma staring back at her. The smile they shared was awkward and uncertain, and yet Emma found herself wishing it would go on forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won’t be able to upload chapter 5 next Sunday like normal, so instead it’ll go online on Monday xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient for an extra day before I posted this chapter! I forgot that I had plans last night so today was my first opportunity to get to this.
> 
> I'm also going to have the same issue next week – some delicious SQ friends are descending on London for the weekend so I won't be able to update this fic again until **next Tuesday (30th April)**

 

The drinks really started flowing after Emma and Regina's forced display of affection, and thankfully once everyone was drunk they stopped being quite so interested in where Emma had been for the past few years. She breathed a sigh of relief and slipped off on her own, leaving Regina chatting to a group of people who inexplicably seemed to have taken a liking to her. Regina saw her sneaking off, but she didn't follow her. She could see from the pinkness in her cheeks and the slight glaze in her eyes that she needed a moment to herself.

The whole day had been crazy so far, but the moment Emma had felt Regina starting to kiss her properly was the moment she'd realised just how difficult the rest of the weekend was going to be. Regina's lips had been gentle and demanding at the same time, which was so fucking typical of her tyrannical, contrary boss, and the worst part was that Emma had wanted _more_. She'd pulled away because she'd been all too aware of her parents' eyes on her, but a tiny part of her had wanted to grab Regina by the wrist and tug her into her childhood bedroom and see how far they could get on the sheets before her mother inevitably sniffed out some kind of sexual activity and came charging up the stairs to put a stop to it.

Emma groaned, because she shouldn't be thinking about any of that. All she was doing was making her life a whole lot more difficult.

Right at that second she glanced up, caught sight of the smirk that her boss was aiming at her, and felt all the blood in her body rush directly between her thighs.

"Christ," she hissed, turning around and going in search of a beer. The moment she pivoted, she crashed straight into someone's chest.

"Oh, shit, sorry," she blurted out, stepping back and looking up to find out exactly who she'd accosted. Her mouth dropped open. "Oh my God. Killian?"

Killian grinned back at her, his teeth glinting as brightly as ever and his hair somehow even more dishevelled than it had been the last time she'd seen him. Shock was jolting through Emma's body, and yet there was something so wonderful about seeing him again. More importantly, he looked happy to see _her_.

Without thinking, she tumbled forward to give him a hug.

"Hey, Swan," he muttered against the top of her head. "It's been a while."

"It really has. Wow. I just…" Emma stammered, pulling away. He was still grinning. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"I know – I didn't think it was such a great idea either, but your mom insisted, and you know how she can be."

Emma glanced across the room at where her mother was waving at the pair of them. She sighed.

"Still hoping she can turn me back, I see."

Killian nudged her. "That was probably the plan until you threw your little spanner in the works."

"Right," Emma said, feeling herself blush. She deliberately didn't look over at where Regina was standing because she didn't want her to know she was being talked about, but for some reason she was pretty sure that her newfound fiancée was already watching her. "Did she call you crying as soon as I broke the news about me bringing a date?"

"Not… exactly," Killian said, perching himself on the edge of a nearby table. He was wearing the same leather jacket he'd owned for 10 years, the same long necklaces, and probably the same ripped black shirt. The whole ensemble had always made Emma shudder a bit, but right then there was so much familiarity to it that she found herself smiling. "Em – she really is okay with it."

"She's pretending to be okay with it."

"No, I mean it. Things might have been difficult all those years ago, but she's had time to adjust and now look at her – she couldn't be happier for you."

Emma snuck a glance at her mother again. She _did_ look happy, although Emma had assumed it was just because she was surrounded by her friends and family and she was three quarters of the way through a bottle of Pinot Grigio. David had just joined her, and he too looked relaxed and cheerful. They were a picture-perfect couple.

And then there she was, their only daughter, who'd turned out to be a disappointment in absolutely every way possible.

Emma shrugged. "They're doing their best. And anyway – even if they're not totally overjoyed, I guess I know they still love me."

"Right," Killian nodded, his gaze shifting across the room once more. "And what about Regina? Does she love you?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"I just want to be sure. If you're going to marry her then I need to know you're happy."

It shouldn't have hurt so badly to lie to him, but Emma still felt a pain in her stomach as she said, "She loves me, and we're unbelievably happy."

"Ah. Well, then," he shrugged cheerfully. "I guess my plan to try and win you back has already failed."

Across the room, Regina had stopped listening to the people who were still chattering away to her. Her eyes were on the conversation taking place in the opposite corner.

The man who'd approached Emma was tall and handsome in a slightly dirty kind of way, and he was smiling at Emma like his whole world had just walked through the door. She was standing so close to his side and there was a grin on her face that Regina had never even seen before. It made her look so pretty. It also made Regina feel inexplicably sad.

The people she was with gradually disappeared, and for a second Regina was left on her own. She dragged her eyes away from the couple on the other side of the room and tried to decide what her next move should be.

Then she realised that someone else was approaching her, and she plastered on the biggest smile in her repertoire.

"David," she said as he reached her side. "Hi."

"What are you doing all by yourself?"

"Taking a breather," Regina said, lifting her wine glass. "I haven't even had a chance to get hammered yet."

David laughed and clinked his glass against hers. "Family gatherings usually do call for that, don't they?"

Instead of saying that she had absolutely no idea, Regina just smiled. In the silence that followed, her gaze was automatically drawn to Emma once more. It only took a second for David to notice.

"That's Killian."

"Oh," Regina said, swallowing. "Family friend?"

"Ex-boyfriend."

Regina wanted to kick herself for the jolt of disappointment that shot through her.

"I see. She doesn't really talk about him."

"They dated for six years," David said. "All through high school and then college. We all thought they were going to get married."

Ignoring what an odd comment that was to make to Emma's fiancée, Regina asked, "What happened?"

"Emma came back from college and helped us with the business for a year or so, but then one day she just… had enough," he said. Something in his voice cracked, and when Regina looked back at him he had shame written all over his face. "She broke up with Killian and then came home and told us she was moving to New York. It was a bit of a shock."

Regina looked back at Emma, who was laughing with her hand on Killian's shoulder. There was another sharp twinge in her stomach.

"It must have been hard for her to move away," she said eventually.

"It was," David sighed. After a beat, he said, "This is the first time we've seen her in four years."

Regina nearly dropped her glass. "Four _years_?"

"You didn't know that?"

"No. I… She's always been a bit vague about the details."

He nodded. "She's a private person. But I'm glad she's found someone who she trusts enough to open up to a little."

It took Regina a moment to recognise the feeling of cold, sticky guilt once it was crawling down her spine. She hadn't felt guilty about anything in a very long time, and she couldn't say she was glad about its sudden reappearance in her life.

When she didn't respond, David added, "I know she needed some space from us, but I didn't think it would be this _much_. And then when she tried to cancel this weekend with a flimsy excuse about having to work…"

Another pang of guilt. It tasted like acid.

"She came around," Regina said eventually. "And she's glad she's here."

"So are we. You two seem happy together."

He didn't sound entirely thrilled, but he was smiling and maybe that was good enough. Regina offered him her widest smile in response.

"We are. And hopefully now that she's been back once, it'll become a more frequent occurrence."

"I really hope so," David said wistfully. "Or maybe we can come down to New York sometime."

The thought of these sickly sweet people descending on her home made Regina's teeth grind together, but she pushed through it. "That would be great. We'll set something up."

With a gentle squeeze to her arm, David left her alone again. Regina leaned against the wall and tried to find someone else who might be vaguely interesting to talk to, but eventually her eyes were drawn by some kind of inevitable pull back to Emma.

She and Killian were still talking, but now the laughter had vanished and they were speaking in low, thoughtful voices. Emma's hand was resting on his bicep, and he was listening to her like there was no place in the whole world where he'd rather be.

Another pang shot through Regina's heart. She took a sip of wine to smother it.

Killian suddenly noticed her staring and nodded in her direction.

"Your lady's watching," he said to Emma. She turned her head so quickly that her neck cricked.

"Regina," she called out, waving her over. Regina was standing by herself with her arms folded and a glass of red dangling precariously from one hand. Even though she looked just as cold and intimidating as she did back in New York, Emma didn't like the sight of her standing alone. "Come here."

Regina pushed herself off the wall and slowly approached. She felt nervous, which was infuriating. Since when did she feel nervous about anything?

"Regina, this is Killian," Emma said as soon as she was within grabbing distance. "He's an old friend."

Killian wasn't even looking at Regina when he said, "A little more than that, love."

"Fine," Emma said, rolling her eyes. "We dated. A long time ago."

"And I still remember it fondly," Killian chuckled, finally meeting Regina's eye. "I hope you're going to take care of my girl?"

Regina shouldn't care about that comment. She _knew_ she shouldn't. But the man's smug face and lingering eyes were already infuriating her, and before she could stop herself she was reaching out to slide an arm around Emma's waist.

"No," she said flatly, not blinking as she looked back at him. "But I'm going to take care of mine."

Emma tensed slightly, but Regina wasn't paying attention. She was staring Killian down with those laser-pointer eyes that could reduce any man to a quivering mess, and she was doing a damn good job of it.

Clearing his throat, Killian conceded, "Well – yeah, fair enough. That works too."

Having successfully marked her territory, Regina released Emma and asked, "So, what were you talking about before I came over?"

"Just some old stuff. Nothing exciting," Emma shrugged. Killian's eyes were on her again and they were slightly wistful-looking. Regina had to resist the urge to scoff out loud. "Did my dad bother you?"

"Not at all – he was just catching me up on what I'd missed over the past few years," Regina said. Emma's expression flickered. "Why don't you tell me more about yourself, Killian?"

Killian glanced over at her like he'd already forgotten she was there. "What do you want to know?"

"Absolutely everything. I feel like you must be _such_ an interesting man."

If he caught onto the fact that he was being mocked, he didn't show it. Grinning at both of them, Killian launched into his life story, and because Regina had been the one trying to trick him into making a fool of himself, she was forced to stand there and listen to it.

It took approximately 40 seconds for her attention to be drawn elsewhere. The weird part, however, was that it was yet again caught by the woman standing beside her.

Emma was listening to Killian intently, even though she must have known all of this already. Her green eyes were wide and thoughtful. Even more annoyingly, she had a tiny smile on her face that radiated some kind of love, which meant Regina was forced to remind herself that they'd broken up for a reason – Emma was gay, and she didn't love him. She hadn't even seen him in years.

Then Regina shook her head, because why did it matter? Why was she comforting herself with that fact in the first place?

But then she glanced at Emma again and she saw the soft smile on her face. Her heart clenched.

"And that's how we met," Killian was saying. Regina smiled tightly, pretending she'd been listening.

"You dated for six years after that?"

"We did, until I was kicked to the curb and never quite recovered," Killian said cheerfully. "But it's alright – there's always a never-ending supply of women lining up for a piece of the action."

Regina grimaced. Even Emma shook her head.

"Killian, you're disgusting."

"I know, and yet you loved me anyway."

Emma glanced over at Regina, who was watching her with a strange expression on her face. If she didn't already know how cold and heartless her boss was, she might have thought that it was sadness.

But then the look was gone again, and Regina was saying with a sly smile, "Emma does have notoriously bad taste."

"Ah, now – that can't be true," Killian replied. "Look at the beauty she's managed to bag herself."

"I really am punching above my weight," Emma said before she could stop herself. Regina wrinkled her nose.

"What does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it," Emma said, reaching out to touch her arm and noticing that, for once, she didn't flinch away. "Come on – there are a few late arrivals I want you to meet."

They said goodbye to Killian, and Regina let herself be led away. Emma's hand was cool and steady on her arm. It felt strange – comforting, maybe. Welcome.

Regina swallowed down the fact that her heart was pounding a little bit and walked toward the next group of people with a smile forced onto her face.

* * *

They were both exhausted by the time the party was over. It was late, and once the last guests had finally deigned to leave, it was way past the time Regina had planned to be in bed by so she could avoid any more human contact.

Thankfully, they weren't expected to help clear up: Mary Margaret was pink-cheeked and slightly buzzed as she insisted that they'd deal with the mess the following morning. Regina was relieved when she led them upstairs to Emma's childhood bedroom so they could get some sleep.

It was only when they walked inside and Regina saw the neatly made double bed that she realised there was a new problem.

"So we're…?" she asked, forcing a smile. "Sleeping in here? Together?"

She'd caught onto Emma's parents' thinly veiled discomfort with their daughter's new relationship, and she'd selfishly hoped that they'd insist they sleep apart. But apparently the 14 glasses of prosecco that Mary Margaret had slugged back had mellowed her out, because she was already waving a hand dismissively.

"We're not under any illusions," she said, guiding them further into the room. "And, hey – our room's on the other side of the house, so you don't even need to worry about being quiet."

Emma's entire body shuddered like it had been dipped in ice water. " _Mom_."

"What? I'm being supportive."

"Can't you be supportive like a normal person?"

As they bickered, Regina slowly turned and took in the room: it was huge, just like every other part of the house was, and she was relieved to see that it had its own en suite bathroom. There was also a walk-in closet – something that made her laugh, since Emma only seemed to own four different outfits – and most of the walls were plastered with photographs that no one had bothered to take down. On the far wall was a bookcase crammed with novels. In spite of herself, Regina felt slightly impressed.

"Mom, seriously," Emma said, trying to shove her out of the door. "You can go. We're fine."

"But I want to say goodnight to Regina!"

"Regina will be right here in the morning. She's not going to swim to shore in the middle of the night."

With a small snort of laughter, Regina turned back to the door and said, "Goodnight, Mary Margaret. Thank you for your hospitality today."

Mary Margaret beamed back at her before looking at her daughter once more. "See? Why can't you have manners like that?"

" _Mom_."

"Okay, fine, fine, I'm going," she said, finally turning and leaving the room. Emma shut the door quickly behind her before leaning against it with a sigh.

When she looked up, Regina was peering at the rows and rows of books once more. She had her hands on her hips and from that angle, her waist looked pinched and tiny.

"I couldn't take them all with me," Emma said. Regina's head turned. "When I left."

Regina smiled vaguely. "I didn't know that you actually like to read."

"Why did you think I want to be an editor?"

"I assumed just to annoy me."

Emma rolled her eyes and pushed herself off the door. It was nearly midnight and she was aching all over from tiredness, but being suddenly trapped in a room with Regina was making her feel restless. This kind of situation had never happened before: normally when they were alone it was in Regina's office; in an elevator; in an empty meeting room after a board member had stormed out in tears. Even though Emma had spent the best part of the day with her fingers tangled in Regina's or with her hand on her waist, the tone had shifted the second the door had closed behind her mother. It was too quiet, and Emma didn't feel like she was allowed to step any closer to her.

"I'll sleep on the floor," she heard herself saying. Regina's eyebrows lifted.

"That's not necessary."

"It's fine. I can sleep pretty much anywhere."

"There's a perfectly good double bed right here."

"I'm sleeping on the floor," Emma insisted, walking over to her suitcase and crouching to unzip it. "I don't want you complaining all day tomorrow that I kept you awake with my cover-hogging."

Regina rolled her eyes, but really she was slightly grateful. She never slept well when someone else was in bed beside her, which sort of made it a lucky thing that she hadn't had sex with anyone in over a year. If she'd been forced to share a bed with her assistant, she would spend the whole night lying rigidly trying not to make any contact with her, and she'd spend the next day even more tense and exhausted than she'd been over the past 18 hours.

Emma fished out her wash bag and pyjamas from her case and hurried into the bathroom to get ready. Regina watched her go. As soon as the door clicked shut, she walked over to the wall of photographs that were starting to fade from being hung in the bright light for years.

Her gaze scanned over countless pictures of Emma as a baby, Emma with her parents, Emma surrounded by friends as she blew out candles on a birthday cake. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch: Emma was a tiny little thing with messy blonde hair and constantly scruffy clothes, and in more than one photo, Mary Margaret was chasing her with a damp cloth as she tried to wipe some dirt off her face.

Then Regina's eyes were drawn to a much more recent photo. In it, Emma and Killian were sitting on a hill together wearing matching black leather jackets and identical grins. Killian's arm was thrown around Emma's shoulders, and she was leaning into his side like it was the most natural pose in the world. Regina's smile faded.

She was staring so intently that she didn't hear the bathroom door open again.

"We were a cute couple, right?"

Regina jumped, spinning round like she'd been caught stealing. Emma was watching her with an amused smile, but Regina couldn't focus on that – she was looking down, taking in Emma's checked pyjama bottoms and white tank top. It was altogether too obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

Forcing herself to look away, Regina said, "You were. You suit each other."

Emma shrugged and dropped her clothes back into her suitcase, not bothering to hang them in the closet. Regina watched the muscles in her back shifting as she moved.

"Why did you break up?" she heard herself asking. Emma looked up again with her curls spilling messily over her shoulders.

"Oh, so now you suddenly want to know all about me?"

She was grinning as she said it, and Regina hated herself for automatically smiling back.

"I need to know about these things for the visa interview."

"You've changed your tune since this morning."

"Well, this morning I thought there was absolutely nothing interesting to know about you. It turns out I might have been wrong."

Emma pushed herself back to her feet and turned to face her. The fact that she wasn't wearing a bra was suddenly a hundred times more obvious, and Regina had to physically stop herself from staring down at her slightly protruding nipples.

It seemed that Emma hadn't noticed her boss's pink cheeks, because she walked over to the bed and plonked herself on the edge of it with a sigh.

"Have you only ever dated men?" she asked. Regina blinked, her hand automatically coming up to rest protectively over her stomach.

"Is this relevant?"

"Sort of."

Regina pressed her lips together. "Um. Yes. Only men."

"Killian and I were together for six years," Emma said, gathering her hair up into a ponytail like this was the most casual conversation in the world. "And I really thought I was straight the whole time. On paper, he was perfect for me. My parents loved him and we made each other laugh and I should have been happy. But I never was – not really – and I constantly felt like I was lying to myself and to everyone around me because there was something about me that was slightly different and I didn't want to admit to myself what it was."

Regina wanted to ask why she was telling her all this, but she didn't. Instead she slowly approached the bed and sat down beside her, waiting for her to continue.

"I was 23 when I finally came to terms with the fact that I was gay," Emma said, watching Regina's reaction carefully. She was half waiting for her to laugh. "And once I'd admitted it to myself, I couldn't just keep going with it. So I told Killian and he was actually… kind of awesome. He understood and he gave me a hug and he offered to help me tell my parents."

In spite of herself, Regina felt slightly grateful for that dirty pirate of a man.

"And did he?"

"No – I did it by myself. And it… didn't go that well."

Regina immediately thought about the slightly uncertain way that Mary Margaret and David had looked at them that day. She braced herself.

"What happened?"

Emma's smile was tight. "My mom cried. My dad told me I was using it as an excuse to move to New York because I didn't want to stay here and spend the rest of my life helping them run the business."

"Seriously?" Regina asked. "But they were so happy for you when you told them about our engagement."

"I guess they've had time to get used to it – besides, I've been away for a long time. Maybe after a year or two they realised that having a gay daughter wasn't such a huge blight on their family name when they never got to see her anymore."

"Your dad told me that you haven't been back in four years."

Emma shuddered, looking ashamed of herself. "Yeah. After I came out, I stayed here for maybe a week or two hoping to fix things, but then I realised it was time to go. I moved to New York and they swore I'd work this 'thing' out of my system and then eventually come back, but I couldn't do it. I didn't want to walk through the door and see that kind of disappointment again."

Something that felt like hot oil was sputtering inside Regina's stomach. "They don't seem disappointed in you. I think they really miss you."

"I think they do too. Sort of. They got over the gay thing eventually, and they called and apologised and even offered to come to New York so we could talk properly, but I couldn't face it. They just want me back because they haven't got anyone else to take care of the Charming stuff, and I'd rather be living my own life and enjoying it than coming back here to be some kind of pawn in their mission to rule the whole of Maine through cutesy bookstores."

That struck a chord with Regina so deeply that she felt it reverberate through her ribcage. She opened her mouth to share something of her own – something about her own mother using her for something very similar; parading her around their hometown hoping that a wealthy older man would snatch her up and finally make some use of her – but she stopped herself. For the first time in years, she realised that not everything had to be about her.

"Do you think they wish you'd go back to Killian?" she asked instead.

"Possibly. My dad loves him – they stayed in touch way after I left."

"Maybe he could help with the business stuff instead," Regina suggested. "It sounds like he's basically family, plus he doesn't seem to want to leave this weird town like you did."

Emma smiled properly at that. "That's actually not a bad idea. Killian's a dumbass with no common sense, but he's good with money and he would never do anything to hurt my parents."

"If you suggested it, maybe they'd finally cut you some slack."

"Or they'd force me to marry him instead of you," Emma said, but she was grinning. "I might mention it. They probably haven't thought of it since that would be admitting defeat and accepting the fact that they're never going to have a proper heir to their throne, but they could still go for it."

Why that sentence made Regina feel so incredibly sad, she couldn't say.

She'd shown up on that island feeling aghast and maybe a little bit self-righteous over just how picture-perfect Emma's home life was: she'd never known hardship or abuse, or even just the feeling of wondering whether your family truly loved you. She'd never buried a parent or run away from another.

Except Regina was discovering that they had more in common than she'd anticipated. It was a realisation that was both surprising and deeply unwelcome.

She felt herself reach out to squeeze Emma's hand. Emma didn't even flinch.

"Well," Regina said, trying to smile. "You made a great decision bringing me here – they're so enamoured with me that they can't be too disappointed by the news that you're never coming back."

Emma laughed out loud. "God, you're full of yourself."

"I know. Isn't it charming?"

"Don't use that word in this house. They might recruit you as their marketing manager."

"Well, that'll be a nice career option for me in case I do end up back in Vancouver for the rest of my miserable life."

Emma finally pulled their hands apart. "That's not going to happen."

"Hopefully."

"Definitely," she insisted. "I'm not going to half-ass this – not just because I don't think I'd thrive in federal prison, but because I'd actually prefer it if you didn't get deported."

"You would?" Regina asked. She sounded genuinely surprised.

"I mean… sure," Emma said, her smile dimming slightly. "I need you around to announce my promotion to the board, right?"

Maybe Regina deserved that.

"Sure. Of course you do."

After that, she reluctantly peeled herself away from Emma's side and went to get ready for bed.

It was only when she was in the bathroom looking down at her silky pyjamas that she realised she hadn't brought weather-appropriate sleepwear, and she was probably going to freeze to death in the middle of the night.

Emma's eyes said exactly that when Regina reappeared wearing skimpy shorts and a silk camisole. Emma was already bundled up in her makeshift bed on the floor, but she pushed herself up onto her elbows as soon as her boss re-entered the room. "Is that really the best choice of pyjamas for Maine?"

Regina crossed her arms over her chest and hurried toward the bed. "I assumed there would be some kind of heating."

"But you're the coldest person I've ever met. I expected you to show up in an adult onesie."

"Shut up," Regina said, yanking the covers down and climbing into bed. She tried not to think too much about the fact that Emma had spent her early twenties sleeping on that mattress, and probably rolling around with a naked Killian on occasion as well.

She huddled under the covers and flicked off the bedside lamp without asking Emma whether she was ready. The room fell into silence, and Regina tried to keep her shivering to a minimum so that Emma wouldn't hear her teeth chattering.

Then Emma's voice suddenly piped up through the darkness, "Do you want to borrow a sweater?"

"No," Regina said automatically, before realising a second later that yes, she actually would.

Emma scoffed to herself. "Suit yourself."

The floor was hard and uncomfortable, but Emma was exhausted and she could already feel her eyes beginning to close. Regina was lying perfectly still above her, so she assumed she must be dropping off too.

Then she heard the sound of someone sitting bolt upright in bed. A second later, Regina's impatient voice was swimming down at her.

"Emma. Just share the bed."

Emma didn't open her eyes. "I'm fine."

"You're being stubborn. Get in."

But Emma was tired and she wasn't in the mood to awkwardly navigate herself around her boss's sprawled limbs, so she just rolled onto her side and didn't respond. For a few seconds, the room was quiet. Regina waited for her to relent and climb up onto the mattress with her.

She never did, though. Regina was forced to lie back down and stare at the ceiling feeling strangely like she'd been rejected.


	6. Chapter 6

The cold dragged Regina from her sleep like a nightmare.

She cracked open one eye, wondering for a second why her Manhattan apartment suddenly felt so much like the Antarctic, before remembering where she actually was. The freezing Maine breeze was creeping in under the door, and even the bright light that was filtering in through the curtains reminded her of ice.

"Damn," she muttered, wrapping the covers around her and briefly considering making a dive for her suitcase so she could find a sweater or three to tug on. Then she remembered that Emma was on the floor somewhere below her and she jolted, unwilling to clamber down there in case she disturbed her.

Half a second later, she found herself slowly moving into a sitting position so she could take a look at her. She found Emma mostly uncovered, sprawled out across the wood floor with her bare arms on show and not even one hair standing on end from the freezing cold.

She was lying on her stomach and was facing away from the bed, but Regina could just about make out the slight gape to her jaw and could hear her soft breathing. Against her will, Regina felt herself smile.

Then she heard footsteps. Worse – she heard voices.

There was a knock at the door, shortly followed by Mary Margaret calling out, "Morning, girls! Can I come in?"

_Girls_ , Regina thought, looking down at her 37-year-old body with disdain. Then her attention was drawn back to the fact that her supposed fiancée was still fast asleep on the floor, oblivious to the voice singing through the door.

"Emma," she hissed. There was no movement from beneath her. " _Emma_."

Emma grunted slightly, then rolled onto her back. Her eyes didn't open.

"For God's sake," Regina muttered, grabbing a pillow and crawling to the foot of the bed. She hurled the cushion toward the floor, hitting Emma square in the face. She finally jolted awake, visibly taking a moment to remember where she was before she squinted up at the face that was looming over her.

"What?"

"Your mother," Regina hissed, pointing at the door. Emma blinked a few times, trying to shake the sleepiness out of her head before her gaze fell down. Regina was on her hands and knees and her cami top was gaping over her chest. She caught sight of her breasts, seeing far too much of her nipples to ever be able to forget them, and felt her entire head turn pink.

"Is everything okay?" Mary Margaret asked from outside the door, which finally made Emma spring to attention. She leapt to her feet, grabbing the blankets and pillows that she'd been curled up with and tossing them onto the bed. When she crawled in beside Regina she immediately hissed, recoiling so hard that she nearly fell back out again.

"Why are you so _cold_?"

Regina turned to glare at her. "Just lie down."

As they settled in together, Emma tried not to make too much physical contact with her. Regina had other ideas, though – as soon as she felt Emma's burning hot body slide in next to her, she practically melted with joy. Once Emma was lying down cautiously far away from her, she edged backward, bumping her ass into Emma's hip and ignoring her hiss of protest.

"What are you doing?"

"Snuggling," Regina replied without hesitation. "Couples do that, I hear."

The voice from outside the door returned. "Ladies – should I go?"

"No, no," Emma called out, trying to ignore the fact that Regina's ass was firm enough to bounce coins off of. She grabbed the edge of the covers and pulled it up over herself, then scooped up one of the blankets she'd brought with her. She handed it to Regina, who snatched it up gratefully. "You can come in."

Mary Margaret poked her head around the door with a hesitant smile. "What took so long?"

"I was trying to wake Emma up," Regina said, pressing her frozen feet against Emma's shins. Even through the thick flannel of her pyjama bottoms, Emma flinched at the sudden iciness. "I didn't want you to walk in while she was still snoring."

Emma prepared to bristle in response, but her mother was already laughing.

"Oh, don't be silly," she said, walking into the room with a laden breakfast tray. "I lived with her for 23 years – I know what her snoring sounds like."

"Excuse me," Emma snapped, pulling away from Regina just to spite her. "I do not snore."

"It's okay, darling," Mary Margaret said, dropping the tray in front of them. "We both love you anyway."

Regina shot her a smug grin, but Emma's attention was already diverted by the tray of food. "What's all this?"

"Breakfast!" Mary Margaret declared, stepping back and clasping her hands together. "Well. Don't you two look sweet all cuddled up together."

She phrased it as a statement rather than a question, and Regina couldn't help but notice the fact that her eyes were drifting toward the awkward pose they'd settled themselves into. Maybe she'd even heard their furious whispering through the door.

Without thinking about what her morning breath must be like right at that second, Regina swivelled round and planted a kiss against Emma's cheek. "One of us is sweet, that's for sure."

Emma looked at her with wide, bewildered eyes, but when Regina turned back to Mary Margaret, her posture had loosened.

"Adorable," she said, taking a step away from the bed. "Well, I'll leave you two to wake up properly. Come downstairs whenever you're ready."

Emma already had a pastry crammed between her teeth, so she just mumbled her acknowledgment and waved her mom out the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, Regina rolled away and sat upright, bringing the blankets up to her chest so the cold air couldn't embarrass her any further.

"How can you be hungry already?" she asked, watching as Emma demolished the bear claw in four bites.

"I'm always hungry."

"But you're so… slim," Regina said reluctantly, looking down at her narrow waist.

Emma smirked. "Running around after you all day burns a lot of calories."

Suddenly self-conscious, Regina reached up and patted at her messy hair. She could feel a bump at the back from where she'd slept on it and she had to resist the urge to jump up and go fix it in the mirror.

Then she saw Emma grabbing a second pastry and snapped, "You'd better be planning on cleaning up those crumbs."

"Oh, are you worried you'll be uncomfortable?" Emma asked, looking pointedly at the floor she'd been sleeping on. "There's space down there if you prefer."

"No. I'd just rather not have mice scuttling around me while I'm trying to sleep in this ice box."

"Ice box? Jesus, Regina, it's not even cold. The radiator's on its highest setting."

To prove her point, Regina reached out with one icy hand and touched Emma's neck. She shrieked immediately, sending the pastry flying.

"Shit! What is wrong with you?" she snapped, grabbing another of the blankets that she'd been sleeping with and thrusting it towards Regina's bare shoulders. "Dress yourself properly if you know you're always cold."

Regina suddenly noticed that the blanket smelled like Emma's shampoo – a smell she didn't even realise that she recognised until that very second – and pushed it back down into her lap. "I already told you – I keep my apartment warmer than this. I didn't realise it was going to be minus a thousand degrees."

"We're in Maine, dumbass. It's always cold up here."

Regina sprung out of bed with a huff and began walking over to the bathroom, ignoring the fact that every inch of her skin was prickling and she could feel her nipples threatening to shred her silk cami.

"I'm taking a shower. Don't bother me," she called over her shoulder. She heard Emma's infuriating laugh just before she slammed the door shut.

* * *

While Regina was in the bathroom, Emma shoved another pastry into her mouth before cleaning up the residual crumbs and straightening the sheets. The side of the bed that Regina had been sleeping on wasn't even warm, although Emma shouldn't have been surprised – it made sense that the most cold-hearted woman she knew was also the coldest person in terms of actual body temperature.

Except, Emma was forced to admit as she gently touched the blankets that Regina had been huddling up beneath, she was starting to think that maybe she wasn't such a heartless she-devil after all. It was possible that the past 24 hours had all been an act, but Emma had seen Regina trying to appear interested in Sidney's monthly meetings. She wasn't that good an actor.

She'd been talking normally with Emma's parents and she'd pretended to show an interest with Killian. She'd endured the boat ride and she'd politely reassured Mary Margaret that yes, her home really was lovely, and she'd even offered to share the bed with Emma despite the fact that she was already safely bundled up far away on the floor. Her sudden humanity was unnerving and, honestly, kind of annoying. It made it way harder to be mean to her.

Except right then she heard a hiss of annoyance from the bathroom followed by, "Where are the goddamn towels?"

Emma grabbed one from the closet and walked over to the bathroom door, waiting with her arms folded. It took longer than she was expecting for Regina to yank the door open and stick her head out.

"Emma, where are the—?" Steam from the shower was billowing out after her and her hair was wet and curly against her shoulders. She spotted Emma standing two feet away with a towel dangling from her hand and frowned. "Oh."

A wet arm shot out from the tiny gap in the door and grabbed it from her. Just as Regina was shutting herself in again, she muttered, "Thank you."

* * *

Regina was mildly horrified to find herself sitting at the breakfast table with the entire Charming clan an hour later. She'd dried her hair and applied her make-up and put on one of her favourite tailored shift dresses, but instead of being allowed to go out, she had ended up sitting at a homey wooden table with her high heels tapping awkwardly against the tiled floor.

"Were you expecting a business meeting?" Emma hissed in her ear. Regina shot her a look but didn't say anything.

"Here we are," Mary Margaret said cheerily, placing a cup of hot chocolate in front of either of them. Regina peered down at it, wondering what the joke was.

"You've had hot chocolate before, right?" Emma asked.

Regina glanced sideways at her. "Of course I have. Just not in the last 10 years."

David overheard them and asked, "What do you do at Christmas? Or during fall?"

Three sets of eyes fell onto her and Regina shifted uncomfortably in her hard-backed chair.

"Drink wine, usually."

She didn't add the word 'alone', although Emma sensed that it was implied.

Mary Margaret laughed. "Well, it's a little early for that – we don't start drinking at noon every day. Yesterday was a special occasion."

"This is perfect," Regina said, drawing the cup closer to her and noticing a sprinkling of powder on top. She added in a slow, uncertain voice, "Thank you."

Emma caught her staring with a faint crease in her nose and told her, "It's cinnamon."

"On hot chocolate?"

"It's a family tradition," Mary Margaret said. "I can make you another if you don't like it."

"No, no. This is…" Regina trailed off, thinking about all the cinnamon she threw into the apple turnovers she made when she was having a rough week and didn't want to go out to buy an entire pie just for herself. She lifted the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip. "Nice. It's nice."

She still sounded unsure, but then she had another drink. Mary Margaret's face split into a delighted smile.

"Isn't this lovely," she said, sitting down at the table with two more mugs for herself and David. "The whole family together."

Emma was still watching Regina with some degree of amusement on her face, but at that she finally looked back toward her mother. "Yeah, it's great. Are there any more party plans that we should know about?"

"Maybe," Mary Margaret replied. "We'll get to that later. For now, let's just enjoy getting to know each other."

"You know me already," Emma pointed out. When David opened his mouth to reply, a jolt ran through Regina's body as she realised that he might be about to make a comment along the lines of _not anymore, not since you left four years ago and refused to come back for any of your mother's birthdays._

So instead she found herself leaping in with a frantic, "Tell me more about yourselves."

All three of them blinked at her, but no one looked more confused than Emma.

"Us?" David asked.

"Of course. I don't know much about you. How did you two meet?"

Mary Margaret immediately let out a happy sigh and grabbed her husband's hand. "We went to school together."

"Really? You've known each other that long?"

"We have – we were high school sweethearts, and then both of us went to the local college so we could stay together. We founded the Charming business shortly afterward, and here we are."

It was impressive, although Regina couldn't think of anything more stifling than spending forty-odd years in the same town with the exact same person by your side. One look at Emma's rigid posture told her that she felt the same way.

"And you're planning to stay here forever, I'm guessing?"

"Our entire life is here," Mary Margaret said. "Well, except Emma, of course – but she's off living her own little adventure."

It was the most positive either of her parents had ever been about her move to New York before. Emma offered them an uncertain smile in response.

"I'll come back more often," she said. "I promise."

That only made Mary Margaret's beam double in voltage. "We'd love that. And, hey – soon there will be wedding planning to do. We'd love to help with that too."

Emma shuddered, picturing their low-budget wedding ceremony in some scrubby rec centre in Queens, and tried not to let her discomfort show. "Yeah."

"Have you made any plans yet?"

"Err," Emma said, glancing at Regina. "We only just got engaged. We haven't really had time."

Mary Margaret nodded like she understood, but then said, "You know, it would be so nice if you could get married up here. Where all your family is."

Her husband let out a chuckle. "Mary Margaret, I'm sure that would be nice for us, but did you consider what Regina's family would think about it?"

"Oh, don't worry about them," Regina said coolly. "They aren't coming."

Everyone turned to look at her again. Before she could stop herself, Emma blurted out, " _Any_ of them?"

She knew Regina and her mom didn't get on, although she'd never been given any real detail on the matter. She'd also never heard anything about Regina's father in the whole time they'd been working together, but she hadn't thought much of it – Regina was private, and she had no reason to go spilling secrets about her family to her assistant unless she was commanding her to buy a bouquet of flowers for one of them.

Regina smiled tightly. "No. None of them."

"But," Mary Margaret said, sounding completely aghast, "your parents?"

"I don't speak to them."

"At all?"

"Well, my father's been dead for 27 years," Regina said, sounding perfectly at ease with the fact even though her heart was hurting. "And my mother is… unique. Trust me, you wouldn't want her there either."

Mary Margaret's face had gone pale. "But it's your _wedding_."

Regina looked around at them – at the three sets of eyes ranging from green to blue – and frowned. They had identical expressions on their faces, and it took her far too long to recognise it.

"You don't have to feel sorry for me," she said slowly. "It's fine."

"You must have _someone_ to invite," Mary Margaret said, ignoring her entirely. "We can't have it looking like we forgot to mail the invitations out to your half of the church."

"I don't think we're going to get married in a church, Mom," Emma cut in, because she could see Regina's cheeks going red and she didn't think she could cope with seeing her boss cry on top of everything else. "They're not really big on the gays, remember?"

"Oh," Mary Margaret said, deflating momentarily. "Well, that's fine. We're not religious anyway. Oh, you could get married in the barn!" She yelped the last sentence like the thought had been planted in her head by the God she didn't believe existed.

"The barn…?" Regina asked. That had to be a joke designed at cheering her up.

"Regina, it's _lovely_ ," Mary Margaret gushed. "It's on the far side of the island and you'll just love it. We've rented it out for wedding ceremonies before."

"Oh – great," Regina said, trying to sound enthused. "I've always wanted to get married in a… barn."

Emma snorted and tried to hide her face, but David saw it. He grinned at them both.

"It's nice, really," he insisted. "But if you're not convinced then there's plenty of other options. And since the engagement only just happened, I guess you're not on a tight timeframe, right?"

Emma and Regina both fell silent. After a few seconds, Regina cleared her throat and said, "Well, not necessarily. But I think we both wanted to get it done fairly soon, right, Emma?"

"Yeah, I think so. Neither of us are really set on the big white wedding thing, so we probably won't bother with much of a—"

She knew Mary Margaret was going to interrupt her with a gasp of horror before it had even left her mouth.

"You don't want a big wedding?" she demanded. "No. No way. I'm not letting my only daughter get married in City Hall. You don't want to be rushed through your vows because they need to clear the room in time for a murder trial that evening."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Mom, there's a whole range of stuff between quickie nuptials in someone's basement and a gigantic fairy tale wedding. We'll find something that keeps us all happy."

"What about the rest of it?" Mary Margaret continued. "What about the honeymoon, and the bachelorette party? Are you even going to have those?"

Throwing a panicked look at Regina, Emma said, "Probably. We haven't talked about it."

"You haven't _talked_ about it?"

"Mary Margaret," David said gently. "They've only been engaged for a week. Give them a break."

Regina was trying not to smirk, but it was hard when her future mother-in-law's face was pink with outrage and her fiancée was also struggling not to laugh out loud.

"We'll go on a honeymoon," Emma said eventually. "And we'll have a nice wedding. Okay? Stop panicking."

"I can't leave this up to you. You'd get married in sweatpants if the minister would allow it."

"Sure, but Regina is even more anally retentive than you are. She'll keep me in line."

"She's got a point," Regina interjected. "I made her iron her shirt for yesterday."

That was a lie, but before Emma could protest, Mary Margaret sighed wistfully. "Oh, it's so nice that you have someone to take care of you now."

"She doesn't take _care_ of me, Mom. I'm not a baby."

"On that note, darling," Regina cooed in the sickly sweet voice that she already knew Emma hated. "You have hot chocolate on your jeans."

Emma looked down and realised she was right. "God _damn_ it."

As she got up and hurried out the room to try and clean the stain out of her pants, David chuckled happily. "You know, I think you make a good pair."

Regina felt her cheeks turn fiery. "Thank you. I think so too."

* * *

After spending most of the day making polite small talk with Emma's parents, Regina was hoping the evening would be slightly more subdued. She would even settle for spending a few hours alone with Emma, because at least she could rely on her to not talk too much as Regina attempted to get some work done.

She was out of luck, though. The doorbell rang at 7.

Regina and Emma heard the shrieking from the entryway and turned to look at one another. Mary Margaret had been the one to answer the door, and they could already hear her voice getting higher and higher with excitement at whoever had been waiting for her.

Then the kitchen door crashed open and they were faced with a cluster of women clutching bottles of wine.

Emma blinked up at them for a solid three seconds before she realised she was supposed to get up.

"Hey – what are you guys doing here?"

"Your mother called us," the oldest of the women said. Regina recognised her from the party the day before – she was the one who had insisted everyone call her Granny. "Apparently you two have no plans to have a proper bachelorette party."

Every inch of Regina's body went icy cold. She saw Emma's own expression get tight.

"We…" she started, looking at her mother, who was positively giddy. "We said we hadn't discussed it yet. But we're still planning to—"

"We're the impromptu bachelorettes," one of the other women interrupted. She was tall and was wearing shorts, because apparently Regina was the only person who was bothered by the town's arctic weather conditions, and had a streak of red in her long brown hair. She caught Regina staring at her and waved. "I'm Ruby. I was working and couldn't make it to the party yesterday, but I'm here tonight to make up for it."

"She works at the airport," Mary Margaret said proudly. "She probably helped you guys land."

"And this is Ashley," Emma said reluctantly, pointing to the woman bringing up the rear. She was small and blonde and blinking happily, like she hadn't been out the house in a month and was delighted to be getting reacquainted with the outside world.

Right on cue, she chirped, "I had a baby three months ago and this is my first night out since."

"I went to high school with these two," Emma explained, then turned to Granny. "Granny's just here for the ride, I guess."

"Someone's got to keep you under control, Swan," she said, enveloping Emma in a hug that knocked the breath from her lungs.

"Now," Mary Margaret said, clapping her hands together. "You two need to go and get ready. We're leaving in a half hour."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," Mary Margaret said, her eyes glinting. "David's going to take us to shore and the others are meeting us there. Go on – get going."

Regina followed Emma up the stairs with a scowl plastered all over her face. The second the door was shut, Emma turned and said, "Don't."

"What?"

"Don't start lecturing me. I didn't know they were going to do this."

Regina had been building up to a really good rant, so she felt like the wind had been taken out of her sails a bit. She rolled her eyes and headed into the walk-in closet.

"Your mother's a busybody."

"Maybe so, but she likes you and she's trying to give us both a fun night. Try to be nice, okay?"

"That wasn't part of the arrangement."

"If that's the case, then why did you spend the entire morning sucking up to my parents?" Emma countered, following her. "You could easily be a bitch to them, but you're being civil and I know it's because you secretly want them to like you."

Regina spun around, her nostrils flaring. "I do not."

"Then refuse to come tonight," Emma replied. "I won't stop you."

It was entertaining to watch how quickly Regina's face turned from pink to red. After a lengthy silence, she turned back to the rail of her clothes and began rifling through the dresses. "I'm not doing that. You'll only use it as ammunition any time you want to claim I haven't been holding up my end of the bargain."

Rolling her eyes, Emma walked over to her suitcase and grabbed a random outfit. "It might be fun."

"We're going out with an old woman and a girl who looks like a common prostitute."

"And hopefully she'll liven you up a bit."

"I don't need livening up," Regina snapped, turning around again. She was clutching a dress and Emma instantly groaned at the sight of it.

"We're not going to the fucking Hamptons," she said, snatching the cream-coloured fabric off her and putting it back on the rail. She rifled around for a moment before finding a black dress that looked like it might actually show off some cleavage. "Wear that."

"Since when are you the expert on how to dress appropriately?"

"Since I've actually been out partying with friends in the last six months," Emma replied, turning toward the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. Regina stood still for a few moments, looking down at the dress in her hands and considering putting it back just to spite her.

Then she sighed. "Partying?"

* * *

Mary Margaret was drunk before dinner was even over. By the time their mismatched group had walked down Main Street and toward a dingy bar tucked away just above the water, she was hammered.

"Mom," Emma groaned, trying to guide her away from the traffic. "Don't you think you should go home?"

"Absolutely not," Mary Margaret protested. "I'm not even drunk. I'm just having a good time."

Regina sighed from several paces away. A second later, Ruby fell into step beside her and said cheerfully, "Mary Margaret only has one glass of chardonnay a month. This always happens when we go out."

"You go out with your friend's mom a lot, do you?" Regina asked. It came out snippier than she'd intended, but Ruby didn't seem to mind.

"There aren't many people left in this crap town," she said. "And Mary Margaret knows everyone's juicy secrets."

"And I'm guessing she's not very good at keeping them?"

"Not after I push that second glass of wine onto her, no."

Regina found herself sharing a smirk with Ruby as they finally reached their destination. The sign outside, which was in desperate need of a repaint and was hanging on by a single nail, read _The Rabbit Hole_.

"This is the big surprise?" she asked as they were all ushered inside and led to a round table on the other side of the room. There was a low stage just in front of their seats, but Regina had to hope it was only a feature when terrible local bands wanted to play. Right then, it was empty except for a single chair.

"You'll love it," Ruby said, but she was smirking. Mary Margaret had just collapsed into one of the seats and was screaming at the waiter to bring them a round of shots.

Regina sat down in the nearest chair, relieved to see that Emma was being pushed into the one directly beside her. Still clutching her purse against her lap, she leaned into her ear and muttered, "Why is everyone acting weird?"

"I don't know," Emma replied. "This is just the town's dive bar. I didn't even know my mom had heard of it."

"She doesn't own it, then?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Emma sighed, looking up at Ruby. "Rubes, why are we here?"

"You'll see," Ruby said, heading for the bar. The other women who'd joined them were all chattering excitedly, and even Granny looked slightly pink in the cheeks. Collectively, they reminded Regina of a gaggle of hens waiting to be fed.

"So, Emma," Granny said, leaning across the table. "When was the last time you were here?"

"Err. I don't know – four, five years ago?"

"Ooh, you're in for a treat," she said excitedly. "Things have _changed_."

Regina didn't like the sound of that. She exchanged an uncertain look with Emma, but before either of them could ask exactly what that meant, Ruby had returned with a tray of shots and a bottle of prosecco clamped under either arm.

"I don't do shots," Regina said right away, earning her a dig in the ribs from Emma's surprisingly sharp elbow.

"No one willingly does shots," Ruby said, sliding one toward her. "But it's your bachelorette party and it's non-negotiable."

Throwing another look at Emma's red-faced mother, Regina asked, "For everyone?"

"Even Mary Margaret gets one. I promise you won't have to clean up her puke on the boat later."

"Oh, God," Regina muttered, looking down at the tiny glass of indefinable liquid with panic rising inside her. She couldn't even the remember the last time she'd done one of these and she was suddenly terrified that she'd throw it up at once and embarrass herself in front of these complete strangers.

Emma caught sight of the mounting horror on her face and whispered, "They water down the liquor in here. You won't even taste it."

"Really?"

"I promise. Even mommy dearest over there should be able to handle it."

Regina glanced around her at the other women and decided that if Granny had already swallowed hers without so much as a shudder, she could probably handle it. She clinked her glass against Emma's and then forced the liquid down her throat.

It burned and it immediately threatened to come back up again.

"Oh, sweet _hell_." The words blurted out of her mouth without any input from her brain, and suddenly everyone was laughing. "You said it would be watered down!"

Emma's own eyes were swimming slightly, but she still managed to chuckle. "Yeah – seems I was very wrong about that."

"Did you do that on purpose?"

"Why would I purposefully try to give us both alcohol poisoning?"

"I don't know, Emma – because you're a brat and your sense of humour is notoriously bad," Regina snapped, forgetting momentarily that they had an audience. When she looked up, though, she found several of the women watching them with huge smiles on their faces. "What?"

"Nothing," Ruby said, shrugging. "It's just cute watching you two bicker."

Emma suddenly pressed her entire body against Regina's side and purred, "We are _super_ cute."

"Get off," Regina said, shoving her away. That caused the smiles to descend into actual giggles, and Regina found herself blinking around the circle to make sure she wasn't the butt of the joke.

"You're both adorable," Mary Margaret practically yelled from across the table. The apples of her cheeks were flaming red. "Can I get another shot?"

"No, Mom," Emma sighed, turning back to Regina. She was sitting bolt upright and her lips were pressed together. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Right. Do you need some help pulling that stick out of your ass?"

" _Emma_ ," Regina hissed, making sure they weren't being watched anymore before adding, "Nothing's wrong."

"You look tense."

"Of course I'm tense. I'm in a tetanus-ridden bar and my thighs are sticking to the seat and I'm surrounded by a dozen people I don't know. And _you're_ here, to round it all off."

Emma shuffled closer, ignoring the last point. "I can't do anything about the first part, but these people are nice and they actually seem to like you, for some reason. Can't you loosen up a bit?"

Regina glowered at her. "I'm not very good at that."

She expected Emma to laugh or make another catty remark, but instead she lifted her hand and gestured something to the passing waiter. "I know you're not. Will you let me try and help?"

It pained her greatly, but Regina felt herself sighing with agreement. "Fine."

"Good. First," Emma said, grabbing the purse that Regina was still clutching against her lap and dropping it to the floor. "Stop acting like everyone's out to rob you. No one in this town would dare mess with my mom's clique."

Regina eyed her bag worriedly, but left it where it was.

"Second," Emma said, looking over the top of Regina's head. The waiter suddenly reappeared with two more shot glasses. "Drink another of these."

"But I don't want to."

"I know you don't. When was the last time you were drunk?"

Regina edged backward at the question. "I don't do that."

"Ever?"

"Never ever."

"Not even when you're out on a really crappy date and you need a stiff drink or six just to get through it?" Emma asked, lowering her voice so no one else would latch onto her use of present tense.

After hesitating for a solid five seconds, Regina said, "No."

"Well," Emma said, nudging the shot toward her. "This isn't going to take much, then. Come along, Ms Merlot."

She raised her own glass and waited expectantly. Regina looked around and realised that everyone was watching them again.

Then she sighed and picked up her own glass because, fuck it. She was stuck there for the rest of the night and at least being drunk might make it go slightly faster – if she was lucky, it would also make her fall out of the speedboat on the way home and kill her. Then she wouldn't have to see any of them ever again.

She raised the tiny glass in a toast and threw it down her throat, managing not to retch this time round. Their group clapped as she dropped it back on the table with a cocky smile.

"See?" Emma said. "Not so bad."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Fine – not so bad."

Everyone was grinning and the alcohol was burning its way down to the pit of her stomach, and for a second Regina thought that maybe this night wouldn't be so terrible after all. Emma looked the happiest she'd ever seen her.

But then the lights abruptly dimmed, and everyone was whooping and turning toward the stage.

As Regina froze, blinking at the empty chair that was waiting for them, Emma finally took a proper look around. She suddenly noticed that there wasn't a single man in that bar, and the women closest to her were starting to rummage in their purses.

"Oh no," she said quietly. Regina's head immediately snapped round.

"What?"

"Nothing," Emma said, catching sight of her mother. She was hysterically giggling and clapping her hands together. There was a roll of ones in her hand. "This is just the worst day of my life."

"What? Why?" Regina asked, blinking as she looked around. Music had started playing, but she couldn't focus on it when Emma was slumping down so low in her chair that her knees had collided with the table. "What's going on?"

Before Emma could respond, the curtain at the back of the stage shot open, and Regina found herself staring at a squat man in his early fifties with a bald head and a grey beard. He was wearing dirty overalls without a shirt on underneath, and Regina shuddered when every single woman in the room started screaming.

"That's Leroy," Ruby all but yelled into her ear to make herself heard over the music. "He's the town's only handyman when he's not moonlighting here."

It was only then that Regina noticed he was holding an oversized electric drill, and it finally dawned on her what this show was.

"Oh, no."

Beside her, Emma groaned. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Your _mother_ brought us here."

"She's…" Emma glanced at her and found her hooting up at the stage. "…not very good with boundaries."

They both watched in horror as Leroy unhooked the top of his overalls, letting it flap down over his chest. Emma retched at the sudden appearance of wiry grey hairs.

"I've known him since I was a baby," she said, her hands pressed over her mouth. "He helped my parents build my Barbie Dreamhouse. This is my worst nightmare."

Leroy witnessed her shock from the stage and grinned, pointing the drill in her direction and turning the speed up. She smiled uncomfortably, then turned to Regina with a cheery, "I think I'm going home now."

"Don't you dare," Regina hissed, grabbing her arm in case she really was planning on leaving.

"But you'll have so much more fun without me."

"If you move an inch, I'll drown you in the harbour," Regina replied, then glanced up and screeched with sudden displeasure. "Oh, God!"

On the stage, Leroy had ripped the rest of his overalls off, leaving him in a pair of tight white briefs that made Regina's vagina dry out completely. She shrank back from the table and grabbed Emma's shoulders, hiding her face behind them.

"Thank God I'm apparently gay now," she muttered. Her nose was buried in the curls that were sweeping down Emma's back, and she couldn't help notice how good they smelled.

Emma laughed out loud, which made Regina feel warm all over for a split second until she realised it wasn't a reaction to her attempt at a joke. "He's looking at you."

"Who?"

"Leroy."

"Tell him I'm not interested."

"I don't think he cares."

Regina risked a peek over Emma's shoulder and found Leroy staring at her, his legs wide apart and his drill pointing in her direction. As soon as she caught his eye, he started gesturing for her to join him.

"No," she said flatly. "Not a chance."

"Go on, Regina!" Mary Margaret shrieked from across the table. "It's your bachelorette party!"

"I've decided to cancel the wedding," Regina replied, making everyone laugh again. She tried to ignore the fact that Leroy was now gyrating in time to the music.

"Go on," Ruby said, grabbing her arm and starting to push her off her chair. "We won't stop."

"We're a tenacious bunch," Granny added. Ruby was much stronger than Regina had expected, and to her horror she found herself suddenly on her feet. The whole room cheered.

"Jesus, fine," she snapped, cuffing Emma around the back of her head when she spotted her laughing. "I'll never forgive you for this."

"I'll make it up to you, boo," Emma grinned. Regina slowly began to approach the stage, smoothing her hands over the front of her $300 dress. Leroy had the drill clamped under his arm and was swaying his hips, trying to lure her in with two curling index fingers. She nearly turned around again.

But then a clammy hand was on her wrist before she could back away, and she was being yanked up onto the stage with the single spotlight beating down on her. Leroy guided her toward the chair, and as they walked Regina realised with a laugh that he was at least three inches shorter than she was.

She sat down with a resigned thump. From her new position, she could see everyone laughing and cheering.

Humiliation swept over her like a coat of sweat, but before she could get up and walk off and never, ever come back again, there was an ass in her face. A bare, naked ass.

Nearly hurling herself off the chair entirely in a bid to get away from it, Regina watched as Leroy hitched his underwear back up again and finally dropped the drill. He was grinning and still attempting to dance, and for a second Regina almost felt herself smile at what an utterly ridiculous point in her life this was.

Then a hairy leg was swinging across her lap and a foot was resting on the seat of her chair, and she accidentally glanced down at his crotch. "Oh, _God_."

"No touching, sister," he said cheerily, unhooking himself with a little too much difficulty. Regina automatically held out a hand like she was worried he was might break a hip. When he was safely back on his feet once more, Regina lifted her gaze and found Emma recording a video from the audience. Regina scowled and thrust a middle finger into the air.

Then she realised that Mary Margaret was yelling something at her. She squinted. "What?"

"Smack him!"

Regina glanced back over at Leroy, whose ass was covered again but was starting to thrust toward her like a digger in reverse. She flinched. "No."

"Smack his ass!" Mary Margaret repeated, knocking her wine glass over in the same breath, before Ashley grabbed her and told her to calm down. Regina looked back at Emma, who was still recording, and sighed.

The next time Leroy's too-tight underwear was within hitting distance, she reached out and awkwardly spanked him across one cheek. As everyone jeered and laughed, Leroy jumped, pretending to be shocked. He turned to the crowd with his hand pressed over his mouth, and Regina took the opportunity to make her escape.

She hurried back down to the audience with an actual round of applause following her. When she slumped back in her chair, Emma had tears rolling down her cheeks.

"That's made me want to propose to you all over again," she said happily. Against her will, Regina felt herself laughing with her.

"I'm never forgiving you for that," she said, turning toward the rest of their table. "Any of you."

"You put on a great show," Ruby informed her. Regina shook her head, suddenly feeling her own dress clinging to her uncomfortably, and looked toward the door.

"I'm going to step outside for a second," she said. "I need some fresh air to get his cologne off me."

She was waved off without too much concern, allowing her to hurry over to the tiny side exit before Leroy could grab her again. It was absolutely freezing outside, but for once she didn't mind that. The shots had finally hit her and the icy air was working nicely to calm down her burning cheeks and swirling head.

There was a low railing nearby that overlooked the water, and she leaned against it with a sigh. For approximately one minute, she was allowed to enjoy the silence.

Then the door behind her crashed open and a set of ungainly footsteps were headed in her direction.

"Don't tell me you missed me already," she said without looking around. A split second later Emma was there beside her, matching her pose as she looked out over the water.

"I wasn't sure if you left because you were mad or not."

Regina looked back at her with a wrinkle in her nose. "You were worried?"

"No. I just wanted to make sure."

"Liar," Regina scoffed, turning away again. "But no, I'm not mad – I just needed some air after the worst five minutes of my life."

"I can see you smiling, you know," Emma said. To her annoyance, Regina realised she'd been grinning to herself without even thinking about it.

She schooled her features into something resembling a scowl and asked, "There – happy?"

"Much better. I don't know who I am when you're not looking like you're thinking of ways to kill me."

"I'm up to 13 so far," Regina replied. "Most of them end with me throwing your body into the harbour."

"Kind of like a Viking funeral," Emma said cheerfully. "I like it."

"I shouldn't have been so surprised when your family turned out to be this weird. You really are very odd."

"That's definitely not the worst thing you've ever said to me."

Regina turned to look at her again, and she found her smiling happily back at her. Her curls were floating messily in the breeze and her cheeks were pink. Regina thought back to how she'd been only a few days ago, tiptoeing round the office with a permanent frown on her forehead, and before she could stop herself she was saying, "I like you more here than I do in New York."

_Damn that vodka._

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why's that?"

Deciding her best option was to just shrug and style this out, Regina replied, "You're more relaxed."

"That's probably because I'm not rushing around after my tyrant of a boss here. I'll go back to normal again next week."

For some reason, that sentence made Regina's heart grind to a halt.

"Right," she said flatly. "Next week."

Emma heard the shift in her tone and inched closer to her side. "It'll be alright, you know. The interview."

"Probably."

"Definitely. Tell me – what's my favourite hot chocolate topping?"

"Cinnamon," Regina replied without thinking. "You also like it on your coffee."

"You see?" Emma said lightly, nudging her. "You already know me better than you did back home. We'll ace it."

It was such a gentle reassurance, and part of Regina wanted to reach out and hug her. She quickly blamed the alcohol for that.

"Maybe," she said. "And then after that, things will go back to normal."

"I can't wait. I've missed being ridden by a slave-driver."

Regina scoffed, looking back at her with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You'd be so lucky to be ridden by me, Miss Swan."

Emma grinned in response, and for a second they simply looked at one another. The moon was high above the clouds and the water was lapping peacefully at the jetty beneath them, and for the first time in months – maybe years – Regina's head felt quiet. The snappy little voices telling her to work harder and be better had gone silent.

Her eyes flicked down to Emma's mouth, which was quirking upward in the corners even though the only thing she had to smile at was Regina, and she felt herself shiver.

"We should get back inside," Emma said, spotting the movement at once. "It's freezing."

Disappointed washed over her, but Regina nodded. "Good idea."

They didn't move right away. For the first time ever, Regina didn't feel cold.


	7. Chapter 7

The house was deathly silent when Emma woke up, and she was grateful for that. There was a sharp pounding lodged somewhere within her skull, and when she cracked open one eye, the near-dark was still too bright.

She glanced at her phone: 10am. Her dad was probably clattering around in the kitchen somewhere, but she knew for a fact that her mom wouldn't be surfacing any time before noon.

Forcing herself into a sitting position, Emma rolled her shoulders to get rid of the aches. The wood floor was getting to be hard on her back, in spite of her claim that she could sleep absolutely anywhere with no trouble. She had a vague memory of a drunk Regina trying to shove her onto the bed the night before so she could sleep up there like a normal person, but Emma had been both stronger and more stubborn. Eventually, Regina had just passed out instead of insisting.

Emma looked over at the bed and felt her mouth twitch. On their first night, Regina had slept in a tight ball on the left side, her fists thrust beneath the pillow and her body barely moving. Today, she was sprawled out on her back with one arm reaching across the full width of the bed. Her hair was scattered over her face, and Emma realised with a pang that she was still wearing her make-up from the night before. Sooty puddles had collected under both eyes from where she'd been rubbing them in the night.

She was wearing those same silky pyjamas, and in spite of her constant complaints about the cold, the covers were pushed down somewhere around her waist. Her chest was softly rising and falling. Emma found herself watching it before she could tell herself what a creep she was being.

Then she realised that Regina must still be _slightly_ cold, because her nipples were protruding through the thin fabric. Emma's face instantly turned red.

Regina was quiet and still and altogether quite dishevelled, and it was possibly the best she'd ever looked. Normally she was so put-together and disdainful, but right then, with her lips parted and her fingers twitching in her sleep, she looked human enough to make Emma's heart twist.

It was when Emma realised that her body felt warmer than it had done two minutes ago, and that there was a very specific spot between her legs that had started throbbing, that she shook herself back to reality. Dragging her gaze away from Regina, she clambered to her feet and went rummaging in her suitcase for something that could double as workout clothes. She needed to get rid of both her hangover and a sudden longing in the pit of her stomach, and going for an agonising run around the freezing cold island was the best way to handle both.

She quickly got changed, forcing herself not to look at Regina again, and crept out the door.

Regina didn't stir for another 20 minutes. The house was still quiet, but the cold eventually began to make itself known against her exposed limbs and shoulders. She shivered, grappling around for the covers, and only then realised that her chest was exposed. Shooting upright, she looked down at the foot of the bed to see whether Emma would have noticed or not, but she found the patch of blankets empty.

Disappointment made Regina's face fall. She looked around, checking that she wasn't hiding in a corner somewhere, but found herself alone.

A second later, she realised that her head was pounding. Her mouth tasted like someone had dumped the leftovers of last night's dinner in it.

"God," she muttered, rubbing both hands over her face and grimacing when they came back flecked with dry mascara. She ran her tongue over her teeth and found them fuzzy from not having been brushed the night before.

It all came back to her in an unwelcome flash: the restaurant, the bar, the middle-aged crotch being thrust into her face. The gentle talk with Emma under the moon. Regina shivered again, either from remembering the cold or recalling how softly Emma had smiled at her, and threw her legs over the side of the bed to get away from the fact that her heart was pounding and her fingers were itching for something she couldn't place.

She was mostly unfamiliar to hangovers, but she decided a shower would be the best way to rid herself of this one. Pausing to make the bed and open the curtains to let the sunlight in, she headed into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

* * *

Emma was sweating, her clothes clinging to her, and there was a burning in her chest that was just on the right side of painful. She'd forgotten how different the air was up here compared to Manhattan: it was sharp when it went into her lungs, and as she'd run around the island, she'd felt her hangover falling away from her in icy droplets.

When she returned to the house, it was still quiet. There were signs in the kitchen that her dad had been around, but she didn't see him anywhere as she refilled her water bottle and tipped the entire thing down her throat. Upstairs, there was no noise whatsoever. She wondered whether Regina had surfaced yet.

She pushed open the bedroom door and was surprised to find the room empty. Regina was nowhere to be seen. The bed was made and the curtains were open, though, so maybe she'd gone for a walk – she seemed like the type to resolutely ignore her own hangover until the fresh air had battered it away.

Emma turned the volume up on her iPod and began walking over to the closet. It was a struggle to peel the slick fabric of her shirt off, but eventually it was lying in a heap on the floor and Emma was able to wrestle with her sports bra instead. Her music kept playing, because it was nice to be lost in a different kind of noise that wasn't her boss snapping at her from three feet away. She didn't look over at the closed bathroom door – instead, she held the iPod in her mouth as wriggled out of her pants.

As she wandered into the closet, the shower stopped running.

Regina climbed out of the stall, the room filling with steam, and turned to grab the towel that she'd hung on the back of the door the previous morning. It was gone.

"For God's sake," she snapped, doing a full sweep of the room to try and find the place where Mary Margaret must have stashed it during her frantic hourly clean-up of the house. After opening and shutting every cabinet, she was forced to resign herself to the fact that the only towel left in the room was the hand towel hanging limply by the sink.

She growled and slicked her hands over her wet hair. She was dripping all over the floor, and for a second she wondered whether anyone would notice if she used the bathmat to dry herself off.

Then she heard a noise. A bump, or maybe something being moved in the next room. She paused.

"Emma?" she called out. The noise stopped, and she didn't get a response.

Regina walked closer to the door and waited for another minute before trying again. "Emma? Is that you?"

Silence. Regina was starting to get cold again.

She pulled the door open an inch and peeked through, half expecting to find Emma waiting there with a towel dangling from her hand and a smug grin on her face, but the bedroom appeared to be empty. She frowned, then opened the door another inch.

In the closet, Emma had finally managed to peel off the rest of her clothes. They were dumped into the hamper as she reached up to free her hair from its damp ponytail. The icy air had shocked it into wild curls, and she grimaced at herself in the mirror: she looked like a Disney princess, albeit a totally naked one with half an iPod still crammed into her mouth. She spat it out into her hand and wiped the residual saliva off on her shoulder, reasoning that she was already wet and dirty and was about to get in the shower anyway. Besides, no one was there to see her. She had some peace for the first time all weekend and it was nice to enjoy that by being as gross as possible.

With her music still throbbing in her ears, she turned for the door.

Regina was still hovering on the threshold of the bathroom, peering around the bedroom in case she spotted her towel hanging somewhere it shouldn't be. The room was a mess – both her own fault and Emma's, annoyingly, after they had staggered in the previous night and not bothered to put their clothes away before they fell asleep – but she couldn't see it anywhere. The walk-in closet, where she assumed the spare towels must live, was just a quick dash away, and she figured she could probably make it there without Mary Margaret bursting unannounced into the room. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to run.

She was two steps away from the closet door when a figure suddenly appeared in front of her. It was blonde and it was wearing headphones, and Regina only realised when she crashed straight into it that it was also naked.

For a second, their bodies slicked together. Regina could feel breasts – freezing cold breasts – pressed up against her own. There was a clatter as the iPod Emma had been holding fell to the floor.

All at once, the reality of what the fuck was going on dawned on her, and Regina heard herself yelp with horror. She was still stuck to Emma's front, the water on her skin having apparently turned to glue in the five paces from the bathroom, and when her legs suddenly gave out, Emma fell down with her.

"Regina!" Emma shrieked, landing on top of her and trying to avert her eyes. "Fuck! What are you doing?"

"Why are you _naked_?" Regina demanded, trying to scrabble away. The floor was soaked below her and her hands slipped. When she thudded back to the ground, she got a full view of Emma's breasts squashed up against her own.

Emma's face was pink and she was trying desperately not to look down at the woman sprawled out beneath her. "Why are you _wet_?!"

God, Regina's body was burning hot against her, and even though they were both frantically scrabbling to try and peel themselves apart, Emma was distinctly aware of the fact that her pussy was throbbing. She hurled herself backward, landing on her hip with a thud, before springing to her feet and trying to find somewhere to hide herself.

"Emma!" Regina spluttered, finally making it into an upright position and diving behind a nearby armchair. "What are you even _doing_ here?"

"I went…" Emma tried to answer, spinning in a full circle before finally spotting her discarded shirt from the night before. She picked it up, realising it would only cover a tiny proportion of her naked body, and tried desperately to stretch it as she held it in front of her. "I went for a run and I didn't know you were here. Were you _hiding_?"

"Of course I wasn't fucking hiding," Regina snapped, right before she realised that the chair she was cowering behind wasn't covering much either. She ran over to the bed and yanked back the covers. "I was in the shower."

"Don't get in the bed!" Emma replied, her voice shrill. "You're getting the sheets wet, Regina. Jesus Christ."

"Is that really the most important thing right now?"

"Of course it—"

"You're still naked," Regina hissed, because even though the shirt in Emma's hands was stretched from her nipples down to her pelvis, there was still plenty on show. She could see the sweat on her shoulders, the outer curve of her breasts, the toned muscles of her waist. Regina had even seen that her pussy was waxed completely bare, and her heart thudded again in a way that had nothing to do with shock or embarrassment and everything to do with that fact that she was suddenly desperately curious to know what it felt like to have it grinding down against her thigh.

But then Emma was blushing hard and turning away, rushing into the closet once more. Regina tried not to watch her go, but the second her naked back was on show, she found herself staring. Below that, Emma's ass wasn't exactly peachy, but it was tight and barely moved as she ran. Regina was forced to admit to herself that some of the wetness gathering beneath the sheets had nothing to do with the shower she'd just climbed out of.

Emma dove behind the wall of the closet and brought the shirt up to her face, burying her burning cheeks in it. _Fuck fuck fuck shit shit_ —

"Why were you sneaking around out here?" Regina suddenly shrieked from behind her. She'd thrown herself onto her back so she could stare up at the ceiling instead of at the scene of the crime that was still unfurled before her. "I called your name three times."

"I didn't hear you! I had my—"

"This is so typical you," Regina cut her off, because she was mortified and she was angry and she was way more worked up than she realistically should be. "Why can't you just keep your clothes on like a normal person?"

"Coming from the woman who was running around both naked and soaking wet?"

"I wouldn't have to do that if your goddamn mother would just leave the towels in the bathroom where they belong!"

"You can't blame this on my mother," Emma snapped. "Also, are you still in the bed? You're going to make the sheets all soggy."

"And you're going to make the closet all sweaty," Regina snapped back, forcing herself to sit upright even so. As soon as she did, her heart missed a full beat.

There was a fucking mirror in the closet, and with Emma standing opposite it, Regina could see her reflection perfectly. Every single lean, naked inch of her.

Her mouth popped open and she pleaded with herself to look away, but her gaze had been caught by Emma's pink nipples and toned abs and bare pussy. Her voice dried up somewhere between her tonsils. Emma was leaning back against the wall with her eyes shut from embarrassment and her dirty shirt clenched in her hand. She had no idea that she was being stared at with a pair of eyes that were gradually getting wider and wider and wider.

"Look," Emma said, although Regina barely heard her. "Just get dressed and go. I'll come out when you're done."

Regina cleared her throat. "Emma…"

"I can throw you a towel."

"Emma."

"Just don't tell my mom about this – I'll kill you if you do."

"But – I…"

"Can you stop dragging this out?" Emma demanded, turning her head to one side and still not noticing the aghast reflection opposite her. "Just do as you're told for once."

That snapped Regina right out of her trance, and she found herself shrieking across the room, "I can see your _nipples_ , you idiot."

For a second, Emma just looked confused. Then she remembered the mirror in a flash of panic, and she locked eyes with Regina from behind the wall.

Regina's hair was wet and messy, and her cheeks were red. She was sitting up in bed, the sheets barely covering her naked chest, and there were still drops of water dribbling down her shoulders.

Emma's mouth fell open, partly from humiliation and party from something else, and then she turned and darted across the room. She made it to the bathroom in under two seconds, and she slammed the door so hard behind her that the pictures on the walls rattled in their frames.

* * *

With Emma locked in the bathroom, Regina did the only thing she could: she ran away.

She found a towel and quickly dried herself off before getting dressed. Her make-up and hair products were all in the bathroom, so she went without. Wearing jeans and boots and three sweaters, she hurried down to the empty kitchen, grabbed her coat, and left.

She wasn't entirely sure where she was going – they were on an island, after all, and she didn't even know which direction the mainland was in. But she thought a walk might get rid of some of her residual humiliation, so she bundled herself up and headed down to the dock, pleased that she didn't pass a single person on the way.

There was a new boat floating at the jetty. She frowned.

"Morning," the man inside said as she approached. He was obviously just leaving, and it took her a moment too long to realise that the boat said _United States Postal Service_ on the side.

"Hey," she replied, watching as he settled down at the wheel. Before she could think too much about it, she asked, "Are you going back to shore?"

"I am."

"Can I get a ride?"

"Sure thing," he said, moving one of his bags of letters aside so she could sit down. She clambered into the boat before her usual panic about falling out and meeting her untimely death at the bottom of the Atlantic could settle over her, and within 10 minutes she was back in the main town, walking slowly with her sleeves pulled down over her hands.

She was trying desperately hard not to think about why she was so mortified. Sure, the incident had been embarrassing, but it had been embarrassing for _both_ of them – Emma had been just as naked as her, and at least Regina had been clean out of the shower. Emma was the one who'd been accosted by her boss in her own home, so she probably felt even more uncomfortable than Regina did.

The problem was, though, that in spite of all her bluff and scorn, Regina was actually a private person. No one had seen her naked in over a year – let alone a woman, let alone her fucking assistant – and the fact that someone had seen her like that when she hadn't meant for them to made her feel sick and twitchy all over. Rather than stay in the same room with Emma and wait for her to start laughing it off as something they'd never talk about again, it was easier to just pretend it hadn't happened at all.

_Easier said than done_ , she thought as she found herself remembering the way Emma's body had looked for the 50th time that morning.

She found a cafe and ordered a coffee, then slipped into the bookshop next door to wile away the hours. Her hair was starting to dry naturally, which meant it was forming annoying curls that wouldn't fall where she wanted them to, and the cold air had made her skin dry out. It was warm in the store, though – _Charming Books_ , she noted dully – and she didn't recognise anyone in there. Besides, they only had 24 hours left in that town, and then they'd be flying back to New York – she might get deported the second she arrived, but at least she wouldn't have to think about Emma's naked ass anymore.

If she could spend the next six hours hidden away in that store, it would be easy enough to get through the rest of it.

Her phone started ringing after two, though. She ignored it. She spent most of the day in the bookstore, eventually caving and buying three paperbacks so the assistant wouldn't throw her out, then when she realised that it was late afternoon and she hadn't eaten anything yet, she found a diner and went to get some food. The buzzing from her pocket got annoying around the four-hour mark, so she turned her cell off and went back to her new book.

It was dark out when she finally decided to go back to the house. There was a water taxi bobbing around in the harbour, so she paid the driver what it would have cost to travel one block in a New York cab for him to take her back to the island.

Mary Margaret answered the door to the house with a face that was slightly green. "There you are. Where did you disappear off to?"

"Just… into town," Regina replied uncertainly. There were dark circles under Mary Margaret's eyes. For a second she thought it was all a result of her mysterious disappearance, but then she remembered her condition in the bar the night before. "Is the hangover still clinging on?"

Mary Margaret groaned, stepping to one side so Regina could walk into the house. "Don't even say the word."

Regina toed off her boots and removed her coat, and only then did Mary Margaret think to tell her, "Emma's been worried about you."

"She has?" Regina asked, her hand automatically going to her silent phone. "Why?"

"She said you walked off without saying anything and wouldn't answer her calls," Mary Margaret replied, although she didn't seem particularly present in the conversation. Her headache was obviously getting the better of her. "I told her she was overreacting."

"She does that," Regina replied, but the words stuck in her throat. "Where is she now?"

"Upstairs, I think. Do you mind cooking for yourselves tonight? I think I need to go lie down."

Regina laughed and gently touched Mary Margaret's arm before heading up the stairs. She felt uncomfortable as she went to open the bedroom door – uncomfortable because she still felt embarrassed, and uncomfortable because she wasn't sure what she'd find on the other side.

The door was wrenched open before she could do it for herself, and she found Emma standing in front of her with her eyes blazing and her hair a mess. Behind her, the bedroom had been tidied and the curtains were drawn. It would have been cosy if it weren't for the coldness emanating from Emma's furious body.

Regina forced a smile. "You're dressed this time. That's good."

"Where the hell did you _go_?" Emma demanded. Just like that, Regina's embarrassment was gone – instead, she was overtaken by shock.

She scoffed, brushing past Emma and going into the bedroom. "I just went out."

"Why didn't you say anything? What happened to your phone?"

"I didn't hear it ring."

"Regina," Emma snapped, closing the door so her parents couldn't eavesdrop. "You can't just disappear off onto a boat and not tell anyone about it. What if you'd gotten in trouble?"

Regina was in the closet, hanging one of her many sweaters back up, but she turned around with interest when she heard the worry in Emma's voice.

"But I'm fine," she said slowly. "What's the matter with you?"

Just like that, Emma's concern flipped into fury.

"What's the _matter_ with me?" she demanded, folding her arms so she wouldn't be able to reach out and strangle her. "Look, I know you're used to doing everything by yourself, but you're my problem now. If you vanish for half a day without saying a word then I'm going to worry. I've been tearing the fucking island apart looking for you, you know that? So don't do it again and don't turn your phone off so I can't contact you, okay?"

She sounded more serious than Regina had ever heard, and it made something drop in her stomach. It was a mostly unfamiliar feeling, but one she recognised from the past couple of days. She paused, trying to place it.

Then she realised. It was guilt.

Emma looked angry and, worst of all, she looked relieved. She looked like she'd spent her entire day panicking, and Regina hadn't even cared.

She took one look at the ferocious line of Emma's jaw, her tensed shoulders, her clenched fists, and she stepped forward without thinking. Emma flinched like she was expecting a fight, but instead Regina wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

It pained her to do it, but she forced out the words anyway. "I'm sorry."

Emma was tense against her and her folded arms were wedged uncomfortably between them, but she still managed to laugh. "Is that the first time you've ever said that?"

"Not ever," Regina said, although she wasn't entirely sure that was true. She pulled back and gripped her arms. "I mean it. I just… didn't think."

"You never do," Emma said. She was pouting, and it was strangely endearing.

"I do. Sometimes. But today I was… I just needed some space and I didn't even consider that you might worry about me. I thought you'd be glad to see the back of me."

Emma's nose wrinkled like she was having a hard time believing that. Regina was still holding onto her biceps, and she hated herself for noticing how toned they were.

"This morning was embarrassing for both of us," Emma said eventually, watching Regina carefully like she was expecting her to run away again. "But I didn't bail."

"I know."

"So don't do it again, okay?"

"I won't."

Regina was granted a sharp nod, and she finally released Emma's arms with a sigh. She felt relieved, which was ridiculous.

She felt guilty for making Emma worry in the first place, which was even more so.

* * *

It was late by the time they had eaten dinner with David and finally stopped talking enough to decide to call it a night. Their flight was the next day, so David ushered them off to bed while his wife was already asleep upstairs. He cleaned up the kitchen when everyone was gone.

Regina got changed and brushed her teeth, then climbed into bed. When Emma was ready, she flopped down on the floor like she always did.

"Emma," Regina sighed, her eyes on the ceiling. "Please."

"What?"

"Just sleep in the bed."

"I'm fine down here," Emma said. She was spiting herself a little, because her back was still aching from the night before and it seemed stupid to be forcing herself to sleep down there when she'd had her naked body pressed up against Regina's only a few hours before. She didn't say any of that, though, because she'd made it through the weekend and there was only one night left to endure. Surviving another night on the floor would give her a victory to claim back later.

Regina bit her lip. Emma had seemed fine over dinner – she'd been chatting normally with her dad and throwing stupid insults at her fiancée that were designed to make her struggle not to smile. Regina had thought that her apology had actually been accepted, and that they'd moved on.

But now Emma was being stubborn and refusing to just get into the goddamn bed, and she hated the fact that she didn't know why. There was a chance that Emma was still mad and didn't want to be near her, but there was an equally strong possibility that she was just trying to prove a point. Worst of all, Regina realised that she could be lying down there because their accident that morning had made her feel deeply uncomfortable, and maybe she didn't want to be too close to her anymore. Maybe she was even slightly disgusted by her.

But then she remembered the startled, slightly amazed look in Emma's eye when she'd first glanced down and seen Regina wriggling underneath her, and she forced herself to snap out of her self-pity. Emma might not like her, but there was no way she was _repulsed_ by her.

The room fell quiet even though the lamps weren't off yet, and for the first time in a few days, Regina felt uncomfortable. She didn't like the fact that Emma was so far away. Over the course of the weekend they'd managed to bridge some of the distance between them, and now it was back again: it was the length of a bed, plus a little bit extra for the journey down to the floor.

Regina tapped her fingers against the back of her opposite hand and thought for a moment.

"My father died when I was 10," she said eventually. She felt Emma start on the floor.

"What?"

"He had a heart attack," Regina continued, although she knew Emma was really wondering why she was saying this in the first place. "The doctor said it was stress. I think it was from living with my mother for 20 years."

She tried to laugh, but it was still just about the only topic that she felt uncomfortable discussing. Somewhere beneath her, she could feel Emma's uncertainty rippling.

Regina sighed and tried to think of something else.

In the silence that followed, Emma felt vaguely like she was floundering at the edge of a cliff. She cleared her throat and, speaking quietly so she didn't scare Regina off, asked, "What was wrong with your mother?"

Regina breathed a sigh of relief, even though this wasn't her favourite subject either.

"She was just… difficult. I tried to love her like I loved my father, but I'm not sure I ever succeeded."

That broke Emma's heart more than any movie ever could. "Did she love you?"

"No," Regina said simply. "That's why I left."

"What happened?"

For a second, Regina tried to remember the last time she'd told this story to someone. She lost her way once she remembered a particularly unpleasant meeting with an immigration officer 15 years earlier.

"I'd just… had enough," she said. Her hands were still folded on her stomach, but her fingers had started to twitch. "My mother kept me on a short leash, and it wasn't because she was worried about me or she wanted me to be safe. I was the only piece of valuable property she owned, and she wanted to make sure I didn't leave her."

"Why?"

"Because I was nearly 18, and she thought that if she married me off to someone older and richer then at least I'd have brought some worth into her life," Regina said flatly, remembering all the men who'd been paraded into their house for 'special' dinners, night after night. They'd all had the same look in their eyes. "So one day, just before my birthday, I pretended I was going to school, and instead I went to the airport. I was a minor so it was easy enough to act like I was going to visit a relative in America, and once I landed, I claimed asylum. Even then, I was very tough to get rid of."

Emma laughed before quietly asking, "Have you seen your mother since?"

"No. We spoke a few times during the settlement process, but I think part of her was relieved that I was gone. It meant she could have her life back."

"Do you miss her?"

Regina could only remember small things about Cora now – the sharp glint in her eye; the way her rings scratched when she grazed the back of her hand down Regina's cheek. "Not really."

She sounded pensive, and Emma could tell there was so much left to say that she didn't want to get into. She took a breath and said, "Tell me something else."

"What do you want to know?"

"What's your favourite smell?" Emma asked, although she wasn't sure why. Regina laughed.

"Probably chocolate."

"And your favourite TV show?"

Regina paused before admitting, "I like watching late-night infomercials. They make me laugh."

Emma grinned, wishing she could see the bashful expression on her face.

She sought out another question, and she landed on something that she wasn't sure Regina would want to answer.

She asked it anyway. "What happened when you were learning to swim?"

Regina didn't even flinch. Maybe she'd seen it coming.

"I was… five, maybe," she said. It was weird trying to remember the details when normally she spent so much time trying to forget about them. "I'd been to a few lessons with my school, but I wasn't very confident yet and I asked my parents to help. We went to the beach together and I assumed my father would get in the water with me."

Her sentence ended there, because she suddenly remembered the sharpness of the seawater in her nose. Her mother had gotten impatient with her when she hadn't been able to stay afloat, and when Regina had grabbed for her waist with a whine, Cora's hand had come down on the top of her head and pushed her away. Pushed her down. Held her there for a second.

Regina blinked and looked away from the bright ceiling.

"What's your favourite colour?" she asked. They both heard the crack in her voice, but Emma didn't acknowledge it or the sudden change of topic.

"Green."

"And your… favourite song?"

There was a long pause after that, and Regina thought that maybe they'd gone too far for one day. But then Emma's face suddenly appeared at the foot of the bed, her brow crumpled.

"You know, I actually have no idea."

Pushing herself up onto her elbows, Regina asked, "How can you not know?"

"I've never thought about it."

"Well, think about it now."

For a second, Emma stayed exactly where she was, visibly ticking songs over in her head. Then she was moving, climbing up onto the bed where Regina had hoped she'd settle herself down all along.

"I don't know," she said as she lay beside her. She stayed on top of the covers but her pose matched Regina's – legs straight and crossed at the ankle, her hands folded on her stomach. "What's yours?"

Regina blushed. "It's personal."

"Why?"

"Because it's personal for everyone."

"Oh, but asking me was totally fine?"

Rolling her eyes, Regina was forced to concede, "Fine. It's Wicked Game."

"By Chris Isaak?"

"Mm."

Emma nodded. After a moment Regina heard her quietly singing to herself, the words barely audible as she mumbled them. " _The world was on fire, and no one could save me but you_."

"Not quite as good as the original," Regina said, earning her a withering scowl.

"You want me to do it louder?"

"Not especially."

"Are you ever going to be nice to me?"

Regina turned her head and grinned. "Almost certainly not."

Emma smirked back at her before returning to her previous position staring up at the ceiling. Regina kept watching her, her eyes on the faint scattering of freckles on her nose and the way her lips were slightly parted. She was smiling, which was nice. She also looked tired, and Regina felt another pang of guilt at her behaviour that day.

"I've never been in love."

She said it without thinking. She wasn't sure she'd ever said it out loud before.

Emma turned to look at her with her eyebrows scrunched together. "You haven't?"

"No," Regina replied. She had no idea why she was saying it. "I think I've only ever loved one person, and that was my father."

"Wow," Emma said. For a second it looked like she was trying to work up the courage for something. "I always assumed you were like this because you'd had your heart broken in a big way."

"'Like this'?" Regina repeated, although she wasn't really offended. "What does that mean?"

"You know exactly what it means. All prickly and hard to talk to."

Regina pursed her lips. She thought about the way her mother used to pry her arms off her waist whenever she tried to hug her.

_Be better than this, Regina – stop throwing your affection around like a whore on a street corner._

"You can have your heart broken in more ways than one," she said out loud. Her voice was flat.

Beside her, Emma was thinking of her own parents. How fiercely they loved her, and yet how desperately they wished she was something just slightly different.

Maybe it was because Regina had just shared something horrible with her, or maybe it was because she'd been wanting to talk to someone about this for nearly a decade, but she found herself saying, "I think my parents would trade me in for a different daughter if they could."

"No, they wouldn't. They love you."

"Yeah, they do," Emma agreed, still looking straight up. "But there's stuff about me they don't like. When I was little, I wouldn't wear frilly dresses like my mom wanted me to, and she used to cry until I caved. My dad used to take me around all the businesses to show me how they worked, and when I told them I didn't want to stay here and do all that, he would give me a long lecture on responsibility and serving your people. Then he would cry too."

After a long pause, heavy with the weight of Regina's eyes on her, she added, "And the gay thing."

"They—"

"I know," Emma cut her off at once. "They love me. They're happy that I'm happy. They needed time to adjust and now they've accepted me for who I am. But I still had to sit through that moment when I told them the truth about myself, and they both looked at me like they wished I was kidding."

She turned her head back toward Regina. "I know it's not the same as your family. I shouldn't complain when I've got two parents who are both kind and supportive and who want me to be a part of their life. But…"

Regina smiled wretchedly. "But it would still be nice to know that they love and support every tiny bit of you. Unconditionally."

"Right," Emma replied. She sighed with relief. "Things are better now, and I'm glad we came here this weekend, but things won't ever be the same between us. I know they're still secretly hoping that I'll snap out of this and come home for good and be the Charming heir they want me to be, and that's always going to be hard to deal with."

As much as it pained Regina to admit, she thought Emma might be right. She'd seen enough uncertain glimmers in her parents' eyes over the past few days to know that deep down, they were clinging onto something that wasn't going to happen.

Emma had fallen quiet again, but she was staring up at the ceiling with something that looked like relief on her face. That gave Regina another thought.

"Am I the first person you've ever told about this?"

She'd been expecting Emma to blush and shrug and maybe climb off the bed again, but instead she looked back at her with a smile that was blinding in its tentative easiness. "Yeah."

"Oh," Regina said, her fingers suddenly tingling. "Why did you tell me?"

"Because you're my doting fiancée," Emma replied at once, then grimaced when the joke fell short. "I don't know. We're… okay, I think."

For some reason, those words landed deep inside Regina's chest and burst like a water balloon against concrete.

"We are," she confirmed. Beside her, Emma's curls were spread out across the pillow, and they looked soft and inviting. Regina wondered what it would feel like to scratch her fingers through them – what kind of noises Emma would make if she rolled over and fisted a hand in the roots and used them to guide their mouths together.

They didn't speak again. The lamp stayed on as they both lay there, their eyes flicking between the ceiling and the walls and then each other, and Regina was relieved when Emma never got off the bed and went back to her nest on the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

Regina was used to waking up with a shiver. Most mornings when her alarm went off, she'd hiss at the pain of having to remove her arm from the warm covers to turn it off. Her permanent body temperature was somewhere below freezing, and often it was difficult to sleep properly at all because she couldn't get the radiator in her bedroom to go hot enough.

So when she woke up on Monday morning with the covers almost entirely kicked off and the top half of her body burning with warmth, she thought she might be dying.

It was a good kind of burn, though – less like a fever and more like an electric blanket wrapped around her torso. Her toes curled with pleasure and she shifted slightly, trying to stretch out her arms. Something blocked her, and she opened one eye to find out what it was.

It took her a solid 30 seconds to register what she was seeing. Emma was fast asleep beside her, lying on her back with her curls spread out around her. One of her arms was bent and thrust beneath her pillow, but the other was outstretched. As soon as Regina tried to inch away, she realised that it was lying beneath her own body.

When she lifted her head, Regina found a hand loosely cupping her waist.

Worse than that, though, was the fact that her entire body was pressed against Emma's side. Regina had woken up with her face buried in the crook of her shoulder and, she noticed with a jolt of horror, there was a patch of dried drool on the strap of Emma's tank top, just below where Regina's mouth had been moments before.

She looked down at what had blocked her arm when she'd tried to stretch it out, and she found her hand nudged up against Emma's side in a comfortable fist. Further down, one of her legs was thrown over Emma's. Their thighs were tangled together.

Regina could only stare, because Emma was still sleeping and it was such a peaceful sight compared with the shrill horror that was starting to squeal inside her own head. Her entire body had gone tense when she'd realised how she was lying, and she wondered whether Emma knew – whether she'd woken up in the night and felt Regina shuffling toward her. Whether she'd tried to edge away, or whether she'd pulled her closer.

Regina was burning all over and, as she gingerly tried to remove her leg from on top of Emma's, she felt a wetness between her thighs that shocked her enough to make her jump. Emma mumbled something in her sleep, but she didn't stir. Her head shifted against the pillow, and the hand that was still cupping Regina's waist twitched.

When Regina felt her fingers move, her pussy throbbed of its own accord. She bit her lip to stifle her moan and edged away, trying not to lean too hard on Emma's arm and jolt her awake.

She needn't have bothered. Two seconds later, there was a loud knock at the door that made her flinch violently. Emma woke with a start, blinking at her surroundings as she tried to work out where she was. After a moment, she registered the presence beside her.

She turned her head and found Regina a few inches away, no longer pressed up against her side but still close by and looking slightly pink in the cheeks. Emma frowned sleepily, reaching up to check her hair wasn't sticking up in corkscrews, before another sensation made itself known. Her entire body was hot and prickly, almost aching, and there was a persistent throbbing between her legs that she hadn't felt in some time.

She looked up at Regina again, who was watching her slightly open-mouthed, but before either of them could say anything, the door was being thrown open. Apparently Mary Margaret didn't feel like waiting to be called in was important anymore.

She took two steps into the room, spotted the pile of blankets and pillows at the foot of the bed, and frowned. "What happened there?"

Emma was still blinking at the sudden brightness. She removed her arm from Regina's side of the bed, trying to work out why she felt so warm inside and out.

Regina choked out a laugh and said, "Emma threatened to make me sleep down there as punishment for disappearing for most of yesterday."

Another laugh came from the hall, and then suddenly David was joining them. Regina grabbed the covers that she'd abandoned sometime during the night and tugged them up to her chest.

"We've been talking," Mary Margaret said, her face bright with pleasure. "About your wedding."

"Oh?" Emma muttered, sitting up beside Regina and rubbing her eyes. "What about it?"

"Well – we were talking about how neither of you are really interested in the big white wedding thing, and how you'd prefer to do it sooner rather than later. And then Regina said her family wouldn't be coming anyway, and we just thought…"

She trailed off into nothing like she was expecting someone to finish her sentence for her. When the two women in bed looked blankly back at her, Mary Margaret laughed and concluded, "You should get married here! Tomorrow!"

Emma felt her entire chest jolt. Beside her, Regina had tensed up.

"But," Regina said, her voice cracking. "We're leaving today. Our flight's at two."

"We can reschedule that. Ruby – you remember Ruby? From the bachelorette party? She works at the airport and she said she'd get it fixed for us," Mary Margaret said, her voice getting faster and faster as the excitement took over.

"Besides," David chuckled from beside her. "I'm sure Emma's boss won't mind if she comes back to work a couple of days late."

Emma tried to smile, but her entire face felt tight and there was a piercing noise in her ears that sounded like a bell ringing. This wasn't the plan – they were going to do the interview with Gold on Wednesday and then they would deal with the actual wedding once they were certain that USCIS was mostly convinced they weren't faking the whole thing. It would be quick, with a couple of witnesses, and then they'd go on with their lives like the rings on their fingers didn't actually mean anything. It was supposed to be easy – Regina had promised her it would be.

But her parents were beaming at them with hope swelling in her eyes, and all Emma could think about what how much this was going to hurt them when they found out the truth. It would crush them.

Another disappointment. Another thing that Emma couldn't do normally.

When she stayed silent, Regina gently stepped in. "It's too much work. We can't ask you to do that."

"Nonsense," David replied. "The barn's right there, and the entire family is already in Maine for our anniversary celebration. It's perfect. We can pull this together in 24 hours, and then we can see you get married surrounded by the people who love you."

Regina glanced at Emma, who was still staring at her parents like they'd just told her they'd adopted her after finding her on the side of the road. She squeezed her hand to try and wake her up.

Mary Margaret saw the hesitation and sighed, approaching the bed with no mind for the fact that the sheets were rumpled and they'd only been awake for five minutes. She sat down on the edge of the mattress and looked at them both, her face earnest.

"We want to be a part of this," she said slowly. "You've found someone you love and who loves you back, and we want to show you how happy we are. So, please – let us support you. We'll do all the work. It'll be the perfect day, and it'll mean so much to everyone."

Deep inside, where Regina had buried her heart a long time ago, she felt a tiny crack appear. Emma's mother was looking at them with so much love and sincerity in her hazel-coloured eyes, and it made Regina ache like she was being beaten with the weight of it.

Emma finally shook herself, forcing a smile. Her hand was still in Regina's.

"Okay," she said, the word sounding flat. She cleared her throat and tried again. "That'll be… perfect. Thank you."

Her parents lit up, exchanging a look that told Regina just how relieved they were. In the bed beside her, Emma felt brittle, like her self-hatred was turning her muscles to flint.

"You don't have to do a thing," Mary Margaret said, leaning forward and gripping their adjoined hands before hopping to her feet. "Leave it all to me. I'll call the dress shop in town and see if they can fit us in this afternoon."

Regina nodded numbly. She waited with a fake smile plastered on her face until Emma's parents had left the room before she finally exhaled.

"Oh, God," Emma groaned, wrenching her fingers free of Regina's and pressing them over her mouth. "Oh, _fuck_. This is a disaster."

"Emma, it's okay," Regina replied. "It's not what we planned, but—"

"They're going to _die_ ," Emma blurted out. "They're going to find out the truth and they're going to be heartbroken and I'm going to send them both to an early fucking grave."

Regina reached out without thinking and wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulders. The guilt was bubbling up inside her again, clawing at her throat, making her feel like she couldn't breathe through the thick taste of it.

"It'll all be alright," she said. "We were going to have to get married anyway, right? So we'll be doing it slightly ahead of schedule, but that's okay. In fact, the happy photos of us surrounded by your family might actually work in our favour during the interview process."

Emma nodded sharply. "That's true."

Regina's arm was warm and comforting around her, and as she continued to breathe through her clasped fingers, Emma felt herself slowly starting to calm down.

Regina, meanwhile, felt worse. Worse and worse and worse.

Ignoring that, she forced herself to continue. "We'll be married for a year, maybe two, then get a divorce once my visa is finalised and we're not on their radar anymore." She was trying to convince herself more than Emma. "And your parents will be disappointed, sure, but everyone gets divorced nowadays. They won't think anything of it."

Emma nodded again. "Sure."

Her shoulders were starting to loosen, but only slightly. Regina rubbed her hands over them just to be on the safe side.

"It'll be okay," she repeated.

"I know."

"And I really am grateful that you're helping me."

Finally, Emma smiled. She didn't turn her head, but Regina could feel the shift in her expression like the lighting in the room had changed.

"That's the first time you've said that."

"I know," Regina said. "Because I've been an asshole. But I'm grateful, and I'm… I'm glad it's you."

Softening against her like butter, Emma said, "Yeah, well. I guess I'm glad I could be the one to help you."

It was a sentence that said nothing and promised even less, but Regina felt her heart swell at it. A second later, though, that cracking sensation came back. It was like an insect was scratching away at the surface of her chest.

Guilt, she realised, was almost as difficult to suppress as loneliness. Until that weekend, she'd only been an expert in the latter.

* * *

"What about this one?" Mary Margaret asked. Regina sighed and pretended to show an interest.

"It's… nice," she said, her eyes on the price tag. "I'm not sure it's my style though."

"Nonsense," Mary Margaret insisted, holding the dress out and looking at the flawless white satin. "You'd look beautiful in it."

When her future mother-in-law had dragged her out the house at lunchtime, Regina had told herself this would be a quick visit. They'd find the cheapest dress, maybe get it altered if it made her look like a laundry sack, and then go back home. Emma was off with her dad enduring the same treatment somewhere else in town, which meant that if Regina was lucky, she'd be back at home and shuddering over this whole ordeal with her fiancée within the hour.

Mary Margaret, though, had other ideas. She wanted to look at every single dress, and she wanted to look closely.

"How about this one?"

Regina spied the $5,000 price tag and baulked. No matter how much she loved spending money on designer dresses back home, she wasn't willing to pay that much for a sham wedding that was already giving her an ulcer.

"You know, I think our budgets might be slightly different," she said, guiding Mary Margaret toward the cheaper section. "One of these will be fine."

"Regina!" Mary Margaret gasped like she'd lured her over to a rack of fox pelts. "You can't be serious."

"It's not a big wedding. It's silly to spend so much on one dress."

"Says every bride ever, until she puts on the right one," Mary Margaret said. "What size are you?"

Regina groaned and reluctantly told her. A second later, she was being bundled into a dressing room with five wedding dresses taking up most of the space.

The first three weren't anything special. Regina regarded her reflection with the same kind of apathy she wore whenever a particularly uninteresting manuscript crossed her desk. The moment Mary Margaret saw her in them, she shuddered and shook her head and gestured for her to get changed right away.

Regina yanked on the fourth dress and swished back the curtain with a sour expression on her face. "I need help getting laced up."

"No," Mary Margaret said when one of the assistants rushed forward. "Don't bother. It's not right."

"Mary Margaret, please. Any of these are fine."

"It's not right," Mary Margaret repeated. "Try on the last one. The A-line one."

Regina huffed and went back inside, yanking the unlaced dress off like she was trying on jeans in the Gap. She placed it back on its hanger, then turned to the last dress. It was one of the more expensive ones, and she began slipping it on with a sigh.

Once she was inside it, she looked at herself in the mirror. She paused.

"Oh no."

"Regina?" Mary Margaret called from outside. "What's wrong?"

The dress was beautiful. The skirt started from her pinched-in waist and glided down to the floor. Above that, the bodice was made of lace and glistened perfectly against her tan skin. There were tiny jewels scattered here and there, barely noticeable until she stepped into the light, and suddenly Regina had a lump in her throat that she didn't like at all.

Mary Margaret yanked open the curtain and gasped. "Oh, Regina. It's perfect."

They both stared at her reflection for a moment, saying nothing but with similar expressions on their faces. Then, just like that, Regina's darkened.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Mary Margaret asked, grabbing the fabric where it was slightly too loose around Regina's waist and tightening it with her hands. "You look beautiful."

Regina just stared at herself, the shame seeping from her. She couldn't think of a response. Mary Margaret was looking at her with so much pride and love, and she didn't deserve any of it. She'd bullied her way into their family, blackmailed her way into their daughter's bed, and now she was preening in a beautiful dress like she'd earned the right to wear it.

Just when she thought she might cry, Mary Margaret stopped looking at the dress and noticed the expression on her face.

"Oh, sweetie," she said, turning her round and cupping her face. Her touch was so different to how Cora's had once been. "Do you feel a bit overwhelmed?"

That was somewhat true, so Regina nodded.

"I understand," Mary Margaret said, leading her over to a nearby bench. "A lot has happened in the past couple of weeks. You haven't even been engaged that long, and now suddenly your wedding day is tomorrow."

"It's not that," Regina sighed, looking down at her lap. "I just… I haven't had a family of my own for a long time. It feels a bit strange to have been welcomed so openly into yours."

It wasn't even half of what she really wanted to say, but Mary Margaret was already smiling back at her with tears in her eyes.

"Listen to me," she said, reaching out and cupping Regina's chin. It was more physical contact than she'd normally allow, but the sincere look on Mary Margaret's face had her frozen. "Do you want to have kids?"

Regina blinked. "Yes. Eventually."

"I wanted so many," Mary Margaret sighed. "The day Emma came along was the best day of my life. I promised I'd love her with all my heart, and to never, ever let her doubt how much her father and I cared for her. We were going to have lots of brothers and sisters for her, and our family would have been perfect. But then… I don't know. The business took off and we were all so busy, and raising Emma was more difficult than we'd really let ourselves believe it would be. The other babies never came, and now it's too late."

Regina waited patiently for her point to come. Mary Margaret suddenly didn't look so happy anymore.

"The day Emma told us she was gay," she said quietly, "we didn't react right. We were both blindsided, and she could see that we were disappointed. She left for years and I blame myself for that every single day. I should have hugged her and told her that it was all okay and that I loved her more than ever, but I didn't – I was thinking about myself and what I wanted from my big, perfect family, and she saw it written all over my face. And I don't think she'll ever forgive me for that."

Regina opened her mouth to protest, but Mary Margaret waved her off. "I don't deserve her forgiveness. I let her down when she needed me most, and all I can do now is show her that I love her and respect her and will do anything to make sure she's happy. And I think right now, Regina, the thing that makes her happiest is you."

"Me?"

"I see the way you look at each other," she said gently, cupping Regina's cheek once more before letting her hand float back down into her lap. "And I hear the silly little fights you have and the way you speak to each other like every conversation is still new and exciting. She loves you so fiercely, in the exact way David and I should have loved her four years ago. So we're going to welcome you into our family and make sure she knows how much we support you both. There's nothing you can do to stop us."

Regina hadn't thought she could possibly feel any worse than she had done five minutes earlier. Right then, though, it felt like her stomach was collapsing in on itself. Everything was blurry as she tried not to weep all over her perfect wedding dress.

"I don't deserve to be a part of this," she blurted out, but Mary Margaret wasn't listening.

"You're getting the dress. My treat," she said, getting to her feet and heading over to the sales assistant before she could be talked out of it. Regina was left sitting on the bench wearing a dress she didn't deserve, with that same little insect scratching at her heart. Nudging her; itching her. Reminding her that she wasn't worthy of any of this kindness.

* * *

Mary Margaret decided to stay in town after the dress had been taken off to be altered.

"Lots of stuff to buy for the reception!" she chimed as she hugged Regina goodbye. "I'll take another boat later. David should already be back at the house by now." Then she skipped off into the distance, a beaming grin on her face.

Regina gathered her coat around her and all but ran down to the docks, her chest clenching and a strange feeling burning at the back of her throat.

She found Emma lounging on the deck of their boat, her coat laid over her like a blanket. She had her feet up on the opposite bench and her eyes were closed, but she cracked one open as soon as she heard footsteps hurrying toward her.

"Hey," she said, sitting upright and stretching. "How did it go?"

Regina didn't answer. She climbed into the boat with her teeth gritted together and headed straight for the wheel.

Emma didn't think much of her silence. She'd just spent two hours along with her mother, after all, so she couldn't blame her for wanting a bit of peace. As Regina moved around behind her, she reached for the mooring line and unhooked it.

A split second later, the boat was shooting out of the harbour like a tidal wave was propelling them. Emma had to grab at the nearest surface just to keep herself out of the water.

"Jesus," she spluttered, the ocean spraying up into her face and making her choke. She struggled down onto the deck and turned to find Regina at the wheel, her hair whipping behind her, her shoulders tense enough to snap. "Regina? What the hell are you doing?"

Regina didn't respond. Her eyes were on the water and she was squinting hard – either to protect her from the spray or to stop tears from squeezing out, she didn't know.

Emma staggered up alongside her and repeated, " _Regina_. What happened?"

She had to shout over the roar of the engine and the crash of the waves, but it still seemed like Regina hadn't heard her. She was weirdly pale and she was gripping the wheel too tight.

"Regina," Emma snapped, trying to grab it from her. Regina clung on. "Can you talk to me, please? What's going on?"

More silence.

"Did you not find a dress?"

Regina's mouth twitched before she finally said, "I can't do this."

"What?"

"This. This whole thing. I'm ruining everything."

Emma gaped at her, her eyes wide and reflecting the blue of the water. "You're not serious."

"Emma, they _love_ you," Regina said, driving the boat faster across the waves. "They love you so much and all they want is to show you how much and to prove how sorry they are for how things unfolded four years ago. They're doing everything to make you happy, and I'm just… I'm _destroying_ this. I'm getting in the middle of your relationship and I'm going to tear it apart."

Her voice was getting louder and it was starting to crack. Emma reached out for the wheel again, but Regina wouldn't budge.

"Regina, it's going to be okay – you said so yourself, remember?"

"What if they find out?"

"They won't – we're being careful. Please, I just need you to calm down and—"

Regina suddenly let go of the wheel entirely and walked to the back of the boat, leaving Emma to dive forward and grab it so they wouldn't go plummeting into one of the nearby buoys. "Regina, Jesus Christ! Will you stop trying to kill us?"

"Your parents are so kind," Regina said, perching herself on the stern with her hand clasped over her chest. Her heart felt like it was ringing. "They're good people and they don't deserve this. Why did you let me talk you into it?"

Emma looked round at her. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I'm serious! Why didn't you tell me what they were like?"

"Because you wouldn't have believed me, and even if you had, it wouldn't have made the slightest difference," Emma replied, turning back to the front of the boat with a roll of her eyes. "And I don't— oh, shit."

A buoy was right ahead of them, coming up fast, and she yanked the wheel to the left. "Hold on!"

She didn't hear the splash or Regina's shriek of terror over the sound of the waves crashing against them.

Once they were on a smooth course once more, Emma continued her previous rant. "Anyway, I don't think it _matters_ what they're like. I agreed to help you, and I'm still going to do that, so you need to stop freaking out and try to act like some part of this relationship is normal. Okay?"

Regina didn't respond, and Emma turned to glare at her. When she found the back of the boat empty, her heart stopped.

"Regina?" she shouted, looking around. In the distance was the buoy they'd swerved around. Beside it, just about visible over the waves, was a dark head. "Fuck! Regina?"

She grabbed the wheel and spun it, turning the boat more sharply than it should go. There was something squeezing in her chest and for a second she thought this was actually going to be it. _You've killed her. You promised to help her and instead you just drowned her._

Far enough away that the boat looked like a swan floating on the surface of the water, Regina was sinking. She tried desperately to remember something from those few swim lessons she'd had. _Kick_ , she screamed at herself. _Kick, for God's sake._ But the water was icy and it kept spilling into her mouth, and every time she tried to scream or cry out for Emma to come back and help her, it sunk deeper into her lungs.

She thought she'd known terror before then, but as she bobbed back under and felt the sting of salt in her eyes, she realised what an idiot she'd been. Nothing had ever come close to this.

She kicked hard and pushed herself to the surface, her hands grasping aimlessly like claws. The water slipped by, mocking her, and she kicked again, sticking her head far enough above the surface that she could see the buoy. It was maybe 10 strokes away – less if she was a good swimmer; more if she stopped halfway there because her lungs were closing up. Her coat was waterlogged and clinging to her, threatening to drag her down again, but she couldn't pull it off without losing the use of her arms.

She sunk again, momentarily feeling the push of her mother's hand on the top of her head. She'd thrashed her legs so desperately to fight against it.

_Come on now, Regina_ , the voice had come as she'd been choking and struggling to stop the tears. _Why are you making such a silly fuss about nothing?_

She fought against the waves and kicked, pushing herself toward the buoy. Eight strokes left. Six. She thought maybe she could hear the boat returning to her, but there was a roaring in her ears and it was making it impossible to focus. When her shaking fingers made contact with the slippery, mossy metal, tears finally came.

She clung on with both hands, pulling her body as close to it as possible, and focused on breathing. The water was splashing up into her face and she scrunched her eyes shut, willing it to go away.

The roaring got louder. Then there was another sound.

"Regina – take my hand."

She knew Emma was there somewhere, hovering above her with panic blurring her words, but Regina couldn't make herself realise that if she followed the voice, she might be able to get out of there. The water was wrapped around her, and even though she was floating on the surface with the oily metal keeping her safe, she was certain that if she released her grip on it, she would fall and be lost for good.

Emma was hanging off the side of the boat, frustrated tears in her eyes, looking down at Regina's tiny, hunched frame. Her coat was waterlogged and puffing up on the surface of the water. Trash was floating nearby, and it kept nudging into her.

When she didn't move, Emma repeated her name slightly louder. "Regina."

Regina opened her eyes and looked round. The boat was closer than she'd expected, but to get to it she'd still have to let go of the buoy. And that was impossible.

"Regina, please," Emma said. She sounded desperate. She was clinging onto the edge of the boat with one hand, the other stretched out far enough that it could have cupped Regina's cheek. It was shaking.

Regina looked at it like it was going to push her down too.

But then Emma said in that softly pleading voice, "Get in the boat, Regina. I'm going to help you." Regina shook herself, sniffed, and let go with one hand.

As soon as her fingers met Emma's, she was being pulled free. Emma didn't even seem to struggle with her weight – adrenaline and panic were surging through her, and she tugged Regina out of the water like she was a doll who'd gotten lost.

"Shit," she said, guiding Regina over to the nearest seat and ripping her soaked coat off of her. "Get this off right now."

It was thrown unceremoniously to the floor, and then Emma's own jacket was wrapped around her shoulders. Regina was shaking and her lips felt strange, like they were slowly detaching from her face, and she couldn't stop coughing. Her chest felt raw.

"What the hell were you _thinking_?" Emma demanded, grabbing a blanket and wrapping that around her too.

"I was…" Regina started, but her teeth were chattering together and that was as far as she got. Emma suddenly edged closer, and she wrapped her arms around Regina's shoulders just like Regina's had been around hers that morning.

"We need to get you warm."

Regina nodded, nuzzling closer into Emma's side and not realising that she should feel embarrassed. Even in the middle of winter, in the middle of the sea, Emma's body was hot and comforting. As she pressed herself harder against her, she could feel the trembling in her hands starting to subside.

Emma tightened her grip and held Regina close, ignoring the icy water as it dripped all over her. She felt dizzy from panic.

"You're the reason they say women can't drive, you know," Regina suddenly said. Emma was silent for a moment, before she realised that Regina was cracking a joke in spite of everything. She let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"You're the one who walked away from the wheel mid-journey, dumbass."

"I thought you were… better suited for the job," Regina said, pausing every couple of words to draw breath. Her teeth were still clacking together, and Emma reluctantly pulled away.

"We need to get you back to the house," she said, pausing to wipe some drops of water away from Regina's forehead. Regina didn't even flinch. "I'll be as quick as I can, okay?"

Regina nodded sharply. "I'll hold on this time."

Emma wanted to laugh again, but she was distracted by the fact that her chest was still swollen with both anxiety and relief. Regina was pale and her lips were a sickly shade of purple, and she sped them toward land without paying any mind to how dangerously she was driving or how she could very well send them flying onto the water once more. All she could focus on was getting Regina back there – getting her warm, and getting her safe. She didn't care about very much else at all.

* * *

When they reached the island, Regina was wrapped in several blankets in addition to Emma's coat, and there was slightly more colour in her cheeks. Her clothes were dripping, though, and her hair was still leaving icy water droplets all over her skin.

"Inside," Emma said, nodding toward the house. "Now. I'll run you a bath."

Regina wobbled over to the side of the boat and tried to climb out unaided. She floundered almost immediately, but Emma was there to grab her.

"Easy does it," she said, gripping her hand hard as she helped her back onto solid land. She felt something sharp pricking at her eyes when she realised how cold Regina's fingers were.

They went up to the house together. Emma kept her arms around Regina's shoulders so she could rub some warmth back into her, and even though it made walking difficult, Regina didn't comment on the sudden physical contact. The initial shock of the incident had started to wear off and she could feel the trembling in her hands starting to subside, but being pressed up against Emma's body felt nice and she wasn't about to tell her to let go. They reached the house and Emma ushered her inside, relieved to be back in the warmth at last.

"Emma?" David called from the kitchen. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. I need to get Regina upstairs – we had an accident."

David immediately appeared in the hall, his face alarmed. "What kind of accident?"

Then he spotted the way Regina was shivering behind Emma and faltered. "Oh my God."

"I'm fine," Regina forced out through gritted teeth. She could picture the bathtub upstairs and was aching to climb into it.

"She needs a hot bath," Emma said, guiding Regina toward the stairs.

"Okay. Of course," David replied. "Let me know if I can do anything. And come back down in a second, will you? You have a guest."

Emma paused halfway up the staircase. "A guest?"

"A friend from New York."

Emma exchanged a look with Regina, who was looking smaller and paler with every passing second, and said, "I'll be 10 minutes."

She took Regina into their bedroom and quickly began running the bath for her. Regina perched herself on the edge of the bed, shivering under her many layers, but this time she didn't get yelled at for making the sheets wet.

"Take your clothes off," Emma said, grabbing a bathrobe from the closet and handing it to her. "I'll be two seconds, I just want to see if my mom's got any bath salts or anything."

In spite of everything, Regina couldn't help but smile as she peeled her clothes off and dropped them in a sodden heap on the floor. Once she was huddled inside the thick robe, Emma returned clutching several bottles.

"The water's not that hot yet – I thought it might hurt if you're still really cold," she explained, hurrying into the bathroom and pouring bubble bath into the tub. Regina slowly followed her. "But you can add some more hot water once you've adjusted to it."

The tub only had a couple of inches of water at the bottom, but Regina was already longing to climb into it.

"Alright," she said, stepping closer. Emma was swirling her hand in the water to make the bubbles catch. "I can probably take it from here."

Emma glanced up at the shake in her voice and yanked the taps harder, trying to make the bath fill up faster. "You should get in. Your lips are still blue."

Regina just nodded, but she didn't move. Eventually Emma straightened up with a questioning look on her face. "What?"

"I'm… waiting for you to leave," Regina said. She felt awkward, although she couldn't say why. For some reason, after everything that had happened that weekend, it felt silly to ask Emma to vacate the room before she undressed.

Emma jumped like she hadn't even considered it. "God. Sorry. I was just…"

"I know," Regina replied. The bath was slightly fuller and she needed to get in before her toes fell off. "I'll be alright."

"Where's your phone?"

"My…?" Regina asked. "Oh. It was in my coat pocket."

Emma went into the bedroom, picked up the dripping coat and fished the phone out. She laughed tightly. "Wow. The new iPhones actually are waterproof."

She brought the phone into the bathroom and pressed it into Regina's hand. "Keep it with you and call me if you need anything. I need to go downstairs and see who's here."

Regina nodded. As Emma walked away, ready to shut the door behind her, Regina called out after her, "Thank you."

Emma turned around and smiled half-heartedly. "It's only a bath."

"Not for that," Regina clarified. "For earlier. You came back for me."

She'd also fished her out the water, kept her warm, made sure she was okay, and not looked at her with pity like any other person would have done. Regina didn't have the stomach to say that out loud, but the glimmer in Emma's eye told her she understood.

"Of course," she said gently. Then, with a grin, she added, "I wouldn't get my promotion to editor if you drowned."

Regina laughed and shook her head. "Thank you even so."

"Don't worry about it. Just get in there and don't come out until you can feel your fingers again."

She left, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her in case there was an emergency, and headed downstairs. The second she was gone, Regina threw the robe to the floor and sunk into the bubbles with tears in her eyes.

* * *

Downstairs, Emma walked into the kitchen and sighed. She remembered the warning she'd been handed several days earlier – _I'll be checking up on you, Miss Swan. Don't get too comfortable_ – and realised she wasn't even surprised to see the figure sitting at the kitchen table having coffee with her father.

"Mr Gold," she said, trying to smile. The man's cane was hanging from the back of his chair, and his smile was just as sharp and glittery as she remembered.

"Miss Swan," he said coolly. "I hear there's a wedding happening tomorrow?"


	9. Chapter 9

As she battled through the stilted conversation, Emma forced herself to focus on how grateful she was that Mr Gold didn't seem to have told her father the truth about who he was or why he was there.

David was watching them curiously, though, like he didn't buy Emma's hurriedly bitten out story that they knew each other from work. They all sat together for maybe 15 minutes making polite small talk, and then David finally excused himself. He kissed his daughter on the top of her head before he left.

"So," Mr Gold said as soon as his footsteps had faded. "Things are moving fast, I see."

Emma stared flatly back at him. "My parents want to see us get married, and Regina and I are both pretty laidback in terms of when or where it happens, so we decided to do it tomorrow."

"How convenient," Mr Gold replied. Emma didn't even grace him with her coldest smile.

Then there were footsteps on the stairs, and a second later Regina appeared in the doorway. She was bundled up in Emma's bathrobe and had thick socks on her feet, and Emma was relieved to see that her skin wasn't so pale anymore. Her lips were their normal deep pink.

Her eyes widened the second she saw who was sitting at the table with her fiancée. She forced a smile.

"Mr Gold," she said. "I thought I heard your voice."

She sidled over to the table and placed her hand on Emma's shoulder before slipping into the chair beside her. Emma recognised her strained expression. "What can we help you with?"

"Not a great deal," Gold said. He was taking notes, for some reason. "I promised to check up on you, and I'm a man of my word."

"Right," Emma said flatly. "Well, here we are. Is there anything else?"

Regina glanced at her with surprise: in his office the previous week, they'd both been simperingly polite and tense down to their bones. Now, though, Emma was audibly annoyed. Regina wasn't sure what to make of it.

"You can give me a quick update on how your sham engagement is going," Gold replied. Emma's entire body twitched.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Emma," Regina said quietly, reaching for her hand under the table. Emma snatched it away.

"No," she snapped. "This isn't okay. You don't get to show up here at my parents' house, the day before our _wedding_ , and start accusing us like this. We already told you the truth and agreed to your stupid interview. You're not getting anything new from us today."

She sounded so agitated, and for a second even Regina believed her. Her green eyes were flashing at the implication that they could be faking this whole thing, and it was surprisingly easy for Regina to slip into her role beside her and nod. "Exactly. You can't interrupt a family event just because you're unduly suspicious."

"Unduly?" Gold asked, not sounding the least bit perturbed. "I'd say I'm very justified in my suspicions."

"My entire family is here," Emma replied. "How far do you think I'd be willing to take this? We're getting married because we're in love and that's all there is to it."

And there was that scratching in Regina's chest again. That feeling of pure inadequacy.

Gold's eyes suddenly shifted over toward her, and he stared like he could see her guilt brewing. Regina forced herself to hold his gaze.

"You've gotten better at lying," he said softly. "But not to worry. I'm a patient man. And I do so love a wedding."

"You're not invited."

"Unfortunately, Miss Swan, your father already told me exactly when and where it's being held. I'll be right there in the front row."

Emma's nostrils flared, but she didn't say anything. After a beat, Gold got to his feet.

"I won't take up any more of your time. I found a lovely B&B on the mainland, so I think I'll go back there and rest up for the main event tomorrow."

Regina stood up like she was going to see him out, but he waved her off. "Don't worry, Ms Mills. I'm sure you two have plenty to discuss."

He hobbled out, the front door clicking shut behind him a few moments later. Emma stormed over to the window to make sure she could see him disappearing down the path. When she turned back around, Regina was pale again.

"Are you cold?" Emma asked at once, making Regina's heart throb.

"No, I'm fine. I just…"

She'd never sounded quite so small before, and it was all Emma could do not to fall to her knees beside her and give her a hug.

"We knew he'd come sniffing around eventually," Emma said, walking over to the counter and pouring them each a cup of coffee. "We shouldn't have been surprised by it."

"I guess," Regina conceded. After a long pause, she added, "You were convincing, you know."

Emma scoffed, returning to her seat and passing one of the cups to Regina. "He's an ass. I don't like him."

"I know. Me either. I just wasn't expecting you to defend us so vehemently."

Emma looked back at her with a crinkled forehead. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because we _are_ lying," Regina said, lowering her voice. "All the stuff he's accusing us of… It's true."

"Right. But he doesn't know that and he doesn't actually have reason to suspect it. He's probably just a homophobe and a xenophobe all rolled into one and that makes him hate us even more." She took a sip of her coffee and sighed. "I know I can't really get offended about stuff that's true, but I don't like the way he looks at us. Like there's no way we could possibly be together."

Forcing a smile, Regina asked, "Because you're so out of my league, you mean?"

"No, moron. Because you're so out of mine," Emma replied without so much as a pause.

Regina took in Emma's perfect blonde curls, her green eyes, her heart-shaped face. She remembered how lean and muscly her naked body was, and how kind she could be even though Regina didn't deserve it.

"Right," she said slowly. "If you say so."

"Anyway – I just don't like defending our relationship to him," Emma said angrily, picking at a groove in the table with her thumbnail. "I don't see why it matters. I've chosen to help you and I'm willing to marry you. I _want_ to marry you. So what difference does it make? I'm your fiancée whether he likes it or not and I don't see why our motives are so important to him."

In spite of herself, Regina felt a smile twitch at her lips. "You want to marry me?"

"Sure," Emma said, then hesitated. "I mean, I'd rather marry someone who doesn't call me an idiot 15 times a day, but you'll do for now."

She said the words so lightly that Regina couldn't take offence at them. "You'll do for me too."

Emma grinned at her, her anger apparently gone. "Well, anyway – at least we'll have an extra person filling out the venue tomorrow."

"I can tell people he's my weird uncle," Regina agreed. "So everyone stops thinking I'm actually an orphan."

"You can borrow Granny too."

"Great. And your mother might come over to my side as well, you know."

As they laughed together, Emma tried to ignore the fact that Regina's chuckle made her heart light up.

Regina glanced down and realised that her robe was starting to peel apart, and she hurriedly yanked it shut before Emma could catch another unintended glimpse of her chest. When she looked up, she found Emma's gaze resting on the soft white fabric. Her cheeks were slightly pink.

"Thank you for standing up for me," Regina heard herself saying. Her words made Emma jolt out of her trance.

"Of course."

"I mean it. I know none of this is easy for you and it must be awful lying to everyone."

Emma shrugged. "Well, it's not my _favourite_ thing I've ever done. But like I said – I want to do this. I'm not going to back out."

And Regina knew she was being serious, somehow. Emma's face was determined and earnest, and all at once she felt her heart reach out for her. She had to press a hand over her chest to push the yearning away.

"You're…" she said, then stopped herself. Words were brewing and she shouldn't say them, but Emma was watching her expectantly – maybe even hopefully – and they came slipping out anyway. "You're far too good for me."

Normally Emma would laugh and agree, but there was something glistening in Regina's eyes and she could feel a dull and unfamiliar ache twisting in her chest. She couldn't bring herself to make light of it.

Her palms were sweating. They hadn't done that in years.

"Nah," she said eventually. With the way the light was flooding in through the window, the scar on Regina's lip stood out more starkly. Emma wondered what it would feel like to reach out with the tip of her thumb and run it along the groove until she met Regina's mouth.

She shook herself until the thought went away.

"I've seen the real Regina now," she continued eventually. "It's too late to talk about how evil you are."

Regina felt herself blush, but she put it down to the fact that her body temperature had been through the wringer that day. In the end, she couldn't think of a response. All she could do was shrug.

Emma watched the pinkness spread across her cheeks and felt something warm creeping up her spine. Regina's hair was drying into messy curls again, and she wondered how soft it would be if she fisted a hand in it.

"You should go get dressed," Emma said, her voice cracking. "It'll be difficult to drag you down the aisle tomorrow if you're got hypothermia."

Regina laughed softly and nodded. When she got up and left the table, she wondered why it felt like she was leaving something so important behind her.

* * *

The atmosphere was subdued as they got ready for bed that night. The entire day had been a mess of activity and emotion, and by the time the sun had set and they'd been ushered off by Emma's parents, both women felt totally unsure of what to do next.

"Did you see the decorations my mom bought?" Emma asked as they slowly moved around the bedroom in their pyjamas. Emma's blankets were on the floor again.

"I did," Regina sighed, trying to smile. "They were… very frilly."

"Dad promised me he'd try and tone them down somehow," Emma said. There was a long pause. "Maybe he'll take a pair of scissors to them, or something."

Regina smiled again, but she looked sad. Emma didn't ask why, because she already knew what the reason was and she wasn't sure she felt much better anyway.

She did want to go through with this. She _did_. She was suddenly more committed to keeping Regina safe and in the country than she'd ever been about anything in her life. But it didn't stop her from wondering what would happen next, or what her parents would say when they inevitably separated, or how Regina would look at her once her end of the deal was finalised and she didn't need Emma's help for anything anymore.

That was the worst part – imagining a future where Regina suddenly wasn't beside her anymore. It hurt her to think about waking up alone back in Manhattan and not being able to earn one of Regina's blinding smiles ever again.

Regina was standing by the side of the bed, no longer uncomfortable with the fact that Emma could see her bare legs and arms and braless breasts. She was folding a shirt, and her shoulders were just slumped enough for Emma to be able to notice.

With her hands twitching by her sides, Emma finally asked, "Are you okay?"

But before she could get an answer, there was a knock at the door. Mary Margaret flew in with a determined smile on her face.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. Emma thought for a second she was referring to the nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, but her mother seemingly hadn't even noticed them. "You can't sleep in here tonight."

Emma sighed. "Excuse me?"

"It's the night before your wedding!" Mary Margaret said, grabbing her daughter's arm and tugging her toward the open door. "Come on. You're sleeping in the spare room."

"Mo- _om_ ," Emma whined. Regina couldn't help but laugh. "That's such a stupid tradition."

"I don't care. Say goodnight and then come with me."

Emma looked over at Regina, who was standing awkwardly with her folded shirt clasped against her stomach. She looked even sadder than she had done a second ago. When Emma realised why, she turned back to her mother and said, "I'm staying here."

"You will do no such thing," Mary Margaret replied, moving behind her and beginning to shove her toward the door. "Regina will cope without you for one night."

"But—"

"But nothing. Goodnight, Regina! Do you need anything before we go?"

Regina forced a smile and said, "No. I'll be fine."

She and Emma kept their eyes on each other as Emma was forcibly removed from the room. As the door clicked shut, Regina wondered if that's what it would be like the other way round – if Regina got taken from the country, would Emma feel quite so devastated as she disappeared?

Regina climbed into bed and turned off the light. She tried to convince herself that this was better – she could do with some time alone with her thoughts, and Emma could do with sleeping in a proper bed for once. They'd see each other in the morning and they'd both feel well rested and much calmer than they had done that day, and the wedding would go by without a hitch. Gold would feel so embarrassed.

Except sleep wasn't coming to her, and an hour later Regina was still staring up at the ceiling. She felt cold again, because there wasn't a human-sized hot water bottle in her bed anymore and she was surprised by how much she missed its presence. She wondered whether Emma was lying on the other side of the house missing her too.

 _Don't be stupid_ , she muttered to herself, rolling onto her side and burying her face in the pillow. It was the one Emma had slept on the night before. Regina didn't realise it until she found herself breathing it in.

Her toes curled and her muscles ached, and she wondered what would happen if she climbed out of bed and padded down the hall to whichever room Emma was sleeping in and clambered into bed beside her. She imagined Emma's reaction to her shuffling up against her back, pushing her curls away from her shoulder and nuzzling her nose into the back of her neck. Ghosting her lips over her skin and kissing her softly enough to make her shiver.

She wondered what Emma's lips felt like when they were bruising her throat and sliding down the front of her body into the cavern of the bed sheets.

The thought made her groan and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the images away. She was confusing herself, and she was only feeling like this because they'd had to act so close all weekend. In a couple of days she'd feel normal again, and she and Emma would—

There was a light knock at the door and Regina jumped, yanking her face out of the pillow. She was breathing hard, and she could feel a throbbing deep inside herself that hadn't been there for a while.

She didn't say anything, but the door creaked open anyway. Emma's face appeared through it, peering into the dark, and when she found Regina awake and propped up on her elbows to look back at her, she smiled sheepishly.

"Promise not to tell my mom that I came back?"

Regina laughed and, without a word, reached out for the covers on the opposite side of the bed. As soon as they were pulled down, Emma stepped into the room and shut the door behind her.

Regina felt the heat of her as soon as she slipped into the bed.

"God," Emma hissed with her usual shock. "I forgot how cold you get."

"I'm not even _touching_ you."

"I know – that's how freezing you are," Emma said, rolling onto her back and holding out an arm. "Come closer."

Hope lit up like a match in Regina's chest and she asked, "Really?"

"Yeah. I won't be able to sleep knowing that you're shivering over there."

Without needing any further convincing, Regina edged forward and slotted herself into the gap between Emma's arm and her side. Emma flinched when she felt a frozen leg being hooked over her own, but when Regina sighed happily and snuggled in closer, she relaxed. Regina's body was small and tight all over, like her muscles didn't physically know how to unclench, but the longer she laid there, the looser she began to feel.

It also helped that her right hand had found its new home on top of Emma's stomach, and it was slowly rubbing back and forth in a way that suggested she didn't even realise she was doing it.

Emma's own hand was pressed against Regina's upper arm, and she returned the favour by stroking it with her thumb. She could feel Regina's skin starting to warm up, and she tried to focus on that and let herself drift off to sleep. It was late, and tomorrow was a big day – possibly the biggest of her life, minus her actual wedding if someone willing to marry her for something besides her residency status decided to show up. She needed some proper rest.

She closed her eyes and willed her thoughts to stop, but they wouldn't cooperate. They were buzzing around, getting louder and louder with every shift of Regina's hand. The top of her head was wedged beneath Emma's chin, and she couldn't help but notice how good her hair smelled. It was soft, too. She could feel it tickling her neck.

Regina shifted slightly, and her leg hooked further around Emma's. She suddenly realised how close she was to straddling her thigh, but Emma didn't pull away or ask her what she was doing. She didn't say anything at all. Her thumb kept stroking Regina's shoulder, and then her hips bucked up slightly. Regina wasn't sure whether she'd imagined it or not.

She'd been freezing cold five minutes earlier, but now she was burning. Every cell in her body had sprung awake the second Emma had slipped into bed beside her.

She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the fact that Emma smelled like mouthwash and citrus shower gel; tried to ignore the fact that Emma's arm was just slightly too hard beneath her because of all the toned muscles twitching under her skin. She tried to ignore the fact that she could feel Emma's breathing getting quicker, and that she was holding herself rigid in an attempt not to scare Regina off.

Regina took a deep breath and shifted her hand. She felt Emma twitch when she realised it was moving south.

Lifting Emma's shirt just slightly, Regina slid her hand beneath it and let it rest flat on her lower abdomen. The muscles there were hard and flat, and she sighed happily.

"You're so warm," she murmured. She sounded sleepy, but she wasn't.

Emma couldn't reply, because her blood had started to surge and she could feel it pounding in her temples and between her legs. She desperately wanted to clench her thighs together to ease some of the pressure, but Regina's leg was in the way. She realised then that if she ground down just slightly, her pussy would make contact with Regina's knee. She groaned softly, and at once the hand on her stomach stopped moving.

 _No_ , she thought, shutting her eyes. _Please don't stop._

She wasn't brave enough to say it out loud, because this was crazy. It was _Regina_. Regina, her boss, who was severe and terrifying and _straight_. There was no way they were on the same page here, and in a second Regina would fall asleep and roll away and Emma might be able to sneak her fingers into her pants and take care of herself without anyone ever finding out. She swallowed and waited. Regina's hand still wasn't moving.

Then it inched downward. When it reached the waistband of her pyjamas, Emma's heart stopped.

Regina's fingers didn't stray any further, but they teased at the elastic and crept along the edge of the soft flannel like they were too shy to ask for entry. Emma was frozen, her pussy throbbing to the point of pain, and she felt tears in her eyes when she realised how close she was to getting something she'd never even thought about before landing on Maine soil, but was suddenly occupying every millimetre of space inside her head. The whole weekend she'd looked at Regina's wicked smiles and uneasy frowns and she'd watched as her walls gradually came down. She'd stopped seeing her as a cold-hearted tyrant and started to notice all the things about her that were beautiful, that were unique, that were perfect and could easily make Emma fall in love with her if things weren't already so fucking complicated.

But right then, she didn't care very much about complications. She could feel uncertain fingers against her skin and she wanted them inside her so badly it hurt.

Regina waited where she was, hoping Emma would say something or give her some kind of sign, but the body pressed up against hers was totally still.

Disappointment swelled inside her, and Regina slowly pulled her fingers back.

Before she was even an inch away, a hand came down on top of hers and stopped it from moving any further. Regina gasped at the sudden contact, feeling how firm and pleading Emma's fingers were against her own, and slid her hand further down again. She felt Emma's breath of relief deep in her groin.

Propping herself up onto one elbow, Regina looked down at the woman lying beside her. Emma's eyes were wide and glistening in the dark, and her lower lip was trapped between her teeth. She didn't look afraid, or even confused – she looked desperate. Her hand was still gripping Regina's, begging her not to pull it away, and a rush of desire flooded through Regina's body with enough force to make her dizzy.

She dipped forward and pressed her lips against Emma's, remembering the first time they'd done this in front of a room of people and how strange it had felt. They'd both been stiff and uncertain, and when Emma's hand had rested uncertainly on her waist, Regina had felt a jolt of shock. Now all she felt was need – it was pulsing inside her like a bruise.

Emma pulled her hand away from Regina's the second she felt their lips touch, and she lifted it to the back of her neck. Regina's hair twisted and coiled so easily beneath her fingers and she gripped it harder, willing her to come closer. Regina took the hint and pressed their bodies together, her hand leaving Emma's stomach for the time being so she could grip her beneath her jaw and tilt her head back. Emma was breathing hard and her kisses were already frantic, and when she bit down on Regina's bottom lip, all Regina could do was moan into her mouth. She tugged herself free of Emma's teeth and slipped her tongue between them, sinking in slowly enough to make Emma's body go soft beneath her.

Regina slid her hands down the front of Emma's body and sought out her breasts, feeling the weight of them in her hands and sighing at the unfamiliar sensation. She'd only been with men before, and everything with them was hard and angular and overpowering. Emma was lean but somehow still soft, and the little whining noises she made when Regina found her nipples through her shirt and gently pinched were enough to make Regina's pussy flood all over again.

Everything happened so quickly after that. Regina's hands slid under Emma's shirt without any input from her brain, and when she felt Emma's back arch up to press herself harder into her touch, she cupped her breasts and marvelled at the warmth of them. Emma moaned and reached for Regina's waist, and a split second later Regina was on her back, her legs pushed apart by Emma's knees and her shirt being tentatively eased up. She nodded, her entire body throbbing, and Emma's hand slid beneath the silky fabric. Regina's skin was smooth and, for the first time since she'd known her, burning hot. Emma sighed and bent forward, pressing her lips against Regina's abdomen before kissing up, up, up until Regina was peeling off her own shirt and her breasts were on display.

It didn't matter than Emma had seen them before. She stared down at them like the gates of heaven had just been opened for her, and then she tumbled forward with a moan. When her mouth latched around one nipple, Regina gasped and weaved her fingers through her blonde curls like she'd been dreaming of doing for days, her body arching up so they were pressed even closer together. Emma lapped her tongue over her skin before gently sucking her nipple into her mouth, and Regina was almost ashamed of how little time it took before she was writhing and whimpering beneath her. Almost.

She tightened her grip in Emma's hair and felt the corners of her mouth flicker against her breast. Then her other nipple was being pinched with a pressure that erred just on the right side of painful, and Regina was being completely overtaken by the urge to feel Emma's wetness on her fingertips. She wanted to slick it all over the palm of her hand and feel Emma tremble against her, and she wanted to know what noises she made when she was just about coming apart.

As Emma's mouth moved over her breasts, biting and sucking and making stars flash up before Regina's eyes, Regina snaked a hand down between their bodies and found the waistband of her pyjamas bottoms again. This time, she didn't hesitate. She slid her hand down the front, down into Emma's panties, and when she felt her fingertips make contact with wet, slick skin, she threw her head back and moaned.

"Emma," she bit out. "Is this all for me?"

Emma just nodded in response, her lips no longer working over Regina's breasts but instead pressed up against her ear. Her eyes were sprung wide and her breath was sputtering out of her as Regina's fingers moved slowly against her, slipping through her folds and then dipping inside for just a second with absolutely no resistance. Regina moaned at the feel of her, using her other hand to grab Emma's hip and tug her closer. When her finger skated over her clit before slipping back inside, Emma finally snapped back to reality.

She reached down for Regina's hand and tugged it free, pinning both her wrists against the sheets in one swift movement. Regina blinked up at her, worried for a moment that she'd gone too far, until she saw the determination burning in her eyes: normally green, they were black and sharp in the dim room, and they told Regina that there was time for that later.

Regina nodded, and her wrists were released. Emma went back to peppering kisses over her throat and chest, and when Regina's arms slid up and wrapped around her neck, Emma could only moan at the feel of her. She was clinging on with her hands buried in the roots of her hair, and whenever Emma kissed that perfectly sensitive spot beneath her ear, she whimpered out loud. Five days earlier, Emma wouldn't have even been able to dream that she could make such a noise.

Once Regina was arching and writhing beneath her again, Emma finally started crawling lower. She cupped Regina's breasts as she kissed her way down her ribs, down her stomach, pausing to leave an almost painful bruise at the dip of her waist and only pulling away because Regina was bucking her hips up in desperation. When she reached the waistband of her silky shorts, she caught it between her teeth and pulled it down an inch. Regina immediately groaned, arching up again, her hands getting more demanding in Emma's hair as she tried to push her further.

Emma grinned and pulled back, grabbing the shorts with both hands and slowly peeling them down Regina's legs. She suddenly wished the lights were on so she could see her properly: in the darkness, she could make out Regina's naked body, her long legs, the black panties that were the only scrap of fabric left on her, but Emma wanted to see the details. She wanted to count the freckles on her shoulders and she wanted to see how glisteningly wet she was between her thighs.

But she wasn't willing to pull away any further, so she just curled her fingers through Regina's panties and removed them as well. Regina lifted her hips to help her, breathing quickly, and watched with a throbbing in her ears as Emma's gaze took in every last inch of her.

Then Emma crawled forward again, pressing one hand into the sheets by Regina's waist and leaning her weight against it. Regina watched her approaching, her curls hanging between them and threatening to graze against her bare skin. She wriggled again and spread her legs another inch. Emma caught the movement and smiled.

Her right hand skated down Regina's stomach, pausing for long enough at the top of her pelvis so that Regina could ask her to stop if she needed to, but in response she received silence and a look of total desperation. Regina was gripping the pillow with one hand, and there was a visible tremor in her throat as she struggled to swallow.

When Emma finally slipped her fingers between her legs, Regina's eyes fluttered shut. She tilted her head back against the pillow with a groan.

Emma's movements were almost infuriatingly slow. Regina could feel her fingers glossing over her skin, teasing at her clit, tracing the very edges of her pussy before drawing back again. She was watching Regina carefully, taking in every gasp that came from her mouth and every twitch of pleasure that rippled through her body, before she finally slid a finger inside her, groaning out loud when she felt just how much wetness there was waiting for her.

She was barely an inch inside her before Regina was frantically nodding.

"Yes?" Emma asked carefully, pulling out again and grazing a sticky fingertip over her clit. Regina's eyes snapped open at once and she let out a whine of frustration.

"Stop being so cautious," she gasped. Her other hand came up and grabbed at the wrist that was anchored beside her. "Please. I need this."

For the whole weekend, Emma had loved being able to ignore Regina's commands. The fury on her face whenever she did so had filled her with perverse pleasure. Right then, though, nothing made her happier than doing exactly as she was told – she pressed two fingers against Regina's clit, slowly drawing them back and forth until she could see the wetness glinting off her skin, before sliding them inside her. Regina moaned with relief, her hips bucking up, and when Emma planted a thumb on her clit and began to rub it with every single thrust, a rush of pleasure rippled through her.

"No, no," she whimpered, although she didn't try to wriggle away. If anything, she seemed to be bucking up harder.

Emma thrust her fingers in deep and held them there, using her thumb to draw slow circles around Regina's clit. She was barely moving, but everything was in exactly the right place and Regina gasped with something that might have been horror when she realised what it was doing to her. She felt Emma's fingers curl inside her, pressing down against a spot that she hadn't fully believed existed until then, and felt a hot, slow-moving ecstasy beginning to creep through her. She gasped, gripping her pillow harder, and met Emma's carefully observing eyes.

"What are you doing?" she blurted out. Emma didn't speed up, didn't change her tactic – she just kept slowly swirling her thumb around as her two buried fingers rubbed her from the inside. She could feel Regina beginning to shake, and every few seconds her eyes would roll back. Emma lifted her left hand from the sheets and used it to squeeze her breast.

"I'm fucking you properly," she replied. A split second later, Regina was throwing her arm across her face so she could bite down on it and smother her own scream. Emma felt her coming over her hand and grinned, continuing with her slow rhythm and watching the way she made Regina's body quake and fall apart. By the time the orgasm was finally over, she was glistening with sweat and there were teeth marks in her forearm that even Emma could see in the dark.

Regina lay staring up at the ceiling for a few moments, wondering whether she'd be able to walk if she tried to right then.

She didn't have time to find out, though, because Emma was already moving lower. Regina jumped when she realised she was about to lie down between her thighs.

Self-consciousness and uncertainty gripped her, and she heard herself gasping, "You don't have to do that."

Emma looked up at her immediately, her forehead creased.

"What?"

"That," Regina said, though her pussy was aching and part of her wanted to grab Emma by the hair and shove her down there herself. "If you don't want to."

For that, she received a look that told her she was totally insane.

"Are you asking me not to?" Emma clarified.

After a moment, Regina shook her head.

"Good," Emma said, going back to where she'd been 10 seconds earlier. "Then, for once in your life, be quiet."

Regina's uncertainty wisped away from her the instant she felt Emma's tongue between her legs. She tried to remember the last time someone had done this to her, but she only got back as far as 2015 before her attention was snatched away. Emma was humming gratefully, curling her tongue through her soaked flesh until the tip of it grazed her still-aching clit, and immediately Regina was swept back under.

She tightened her thighs around Emma's head and grabbed her hair with one fist. Emma was already pressed up hard against her, her tongue gliding over her slick skin like she had all the time in the world. When she felt the urgency in Regina's grip, she slid her hands down her thighs and under her ass, reaching round to the small of her back just as Regina's spine began to arch. Her head was tossed back against the pillow, her dark hair spilling out like weeds, and she was releasing the most deliciously grateful whining noises as she bucked and shook. Emma grinned and dipped her tongue in again, causing Regina's hips to wriggle and thrust down against her. Emma shouldn't have been surprised by how greedy she was for another orgasm – not when she was so demanding in everyday life as well – and Emma was suddenly desperate to do exactly as she asked. She gripped her waist and yanked her hard against her tongue, making Regina moan with relief.

Regina could feel Emma pushing her way inside her, her tongue firm and unforgiving, and tears sprung up in her eyes at the realisation that she was about to come again. The twisting feeling that had been almost entirely unfamiliar to her until that night was taking up residence in her feet and her thighs and the tightly clenched muscles in the base of her stomach, and she gripped Emma's hair even tighter.

When her orgasm washed over her, Regina ground down against Emma's mouth like she was trying to lose herself in it. Emma moaned at the feeling, and the vibration from that sound only made Regina come harder.

It seemed to go on forever. Regina's spine was arched to the point of pain and her knuckles had turned white in Emma's hair, and when she finally collapsed back down to the bed, she was struggling to breathe. The room wasn't dark anymore, but bright and glittery. She looked down between her legs and found the same shimmer in Emma's eyes.

A second later, she was crawling back up Regina's body. She looked strangely nervous, like she was expecting Regina to push her away again now that she'd had her fill.

As soon as she was within grabbing distance, Regina reached out for her and tugged her face toward her. It was so utterly strange to taste herself on her lips, and she moaned into the sensation before she could stop herself. Instantly, she felt Emma relax. Her hands came up to the sides of Regina's face and cupped it, and her hips automatically ground down against Regina's.

The fabric of her pyjamas felt heavenly against Regina's bare pussy, but she ignored that fact. Instead, it was time to focus on why Emma was still wearing clothes at all.

She grappled for the bottom of Emma's shirt and immediately began tugging. Emma jumped to help, wriggling back an inch so she could pull herself free of the fabric. The tank top had barely hit the floor before she felt a pair of urgent hands on her hips, and then suddenly her pants were being shoved downward.

"In a hurry?" she muttered as her lips met the corner of Regina's mouth once more.

"Shut up," Regina replied. With one hand cupped around the back of Emma's neck, the other slipped down the front of her body. This time, nothing stopped her.

She was slightly mesmerised by the way Emma gasped at her first touch. Emma was holding herself up above her using her arms, and they immediately began to shake when she felt two fingers skimming over the wet skin between her legs.

"Lie down," Regina murmured, kissing her again. As her tongue dipped back inside Emma's mouth, her index finger began to slowly circle her clit.

Emma all but collapsed down against her as she hissed out, "Fuck, Regina."

Regina took that to be a good sign, so she carried on with exactly what she was doing. Emma's pussy was slippery and hot against her fingertips, and it was surprising just how different it felt compared with when she was lying in bed at night with her fingers thrust between her own legs.

She pushed herself up off the mattress and guided Emma onto her back, her hand never straying from between her legs. It was then that she got her first real look at Emma's naked body: it looked different to the day before, when they'd crashed into one another and immediately sprung apart with their cheeks burning. Right then, Emma was arching up into her, her hands reaching and grabbing and skimming down Regina's back, and the wash of sensations was dizzying. Whenever Regina grazed her clit in just the right way, her chest lifted off the bed and she whimpered like she was begging for something.

Regina propped herself up on one elbow and watched her closely, her mouth getting drier and drier as she witnessed her coming apart.

Emma didn't say a word when she came. She barely made a noise. Regina still knew, though, because she felt the sudden pulsing against her fingers and she saw the way Emma threw her head back and opened her mouth and gasped desperately. Her body had gone rigid, and even in the dark Regina could see the muscles rippling beneath her skin. She kept driving her fingers in and out, her thumb planted on Emma's clit so the orgasm would last just another beat.

When Emma reached down between them and gripped Regina's wrist, Regina sagged with the disappointment that she was about to be pushed away. She was wrong, though – Emma grabbed her hard and ground down against her fingers, holding them inside her as her pussy fluttered and clenched. Regina watched with ravenous eyes, her own body aching just from looking at her.

When it was over, she missed it. She missed Emma when she was already lying directly beneath her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note for anyone who missed the author's note in chapter one: next week's chapter will be both the last one for this fic and probably my last one ever for swan queen. I hope you've been enjoying this story so far! Love you all xxx


	10. Chapter 10

Regina was cold again when she woke up.

She could hear commotion all throughout the house. Mary Margaret's shrill voice was echoing along the hall, and Regina was fairly certain that she could already hear dozens of people milling about downstairs. Cracking open one eye, she waited for the carnage to descend upon her silent bedroom, and realised in that moment that the other side of her bed was empty. She sat up with a sigh. There was a deliciously unfamiliar ache between her legs.

She was still naked, and she hurried to locate her pyjamas and tug them back on. As she did, she noticed a series of faint bruises on her rib cage. She wistfully skimmed her fingertips over them, recalling in all too much detail what it had felt like when Emma had trailed her lips down the front of her body, occasionally pausing to suck and bite and coax her blood to the surface. Everything about the previous night had been frantic and desperate, and Regina was surprised by the fact that she wasn't embarrassed by it. Not at all. She was just sore, and she was wondering where Emma had gone.

Then the door to her bedroom was thrown open without warning, and Mary Margaret was storming in.

"Good morning!" she chirped, heading over to the curtains and ripping them apart. "Happy wedding day!"

Regina's voice was rusty when she replied, "Thank you."

"Honestly, I'm surprised that I didn't find Emma back in here this morning," Mary Margaret said cheerfully. "She managed to stay away all night?"

"Seems like it," Regina said, smiling tightly. She was suddenly grateful that Emma had apparently had the foresight to wake up early and sneak back into her room before her mother could catch them. She smothered a smile at how well she knew her.

Then she glanced to one side and spotted a folded piece of paper on the nightstand. Mary Margaret hadn't noticed it, and instantly Regina's fingers were itching to open it up.

"Well, then!" Mary Margaret said, clapping her hands together. "Time to get up. There's so much to do before the ceremony. Ruby's coming to do your hair and make-up in an hour."

"Ruby?" Regina asked, picturing the girl from the bachelorette party with her red-streaked hair and thickly lined eyes.

"She's very good, don't worry. And she's promised to tone down her usual style for you."

Regina nodded, waiting for her to finally leave the room before she dove across the bed and grabbed the piece of paper.

_Happy wedding day, sweetums. Don't you dare stand me up._

Regina grinned for a second before her now all-too-familiar guilt surged back up inside her. She wondered how long she'd have to keep a smile plastered on her face for before it started to ache.

* * *

The morning passed in a blur. Regina was pushed and pulled in all directions, then found herself being forced into a chair so her hair could be styled into a delicate chignon. As Ruby poked at her eyelids with a series of brushes, Regina smiled and laughed and drank the champagne she was handed, but her stomach was rolling. When she was bundled into her dress, she felt so claustrophobic that she wondered if she would make it through the ceremony at all.

The delighted faces surrounding her made her feel worse and worse, but through it, all she could think of was how badly she wanted to see Emma. Mary Margaret had kept them apart with military vigilance all morning and, as Regina's anxiety and guilt twisted together inside her, she wished she could sneak out and find her fiancée and soak up some of that quiet reassurance that she somehow managed to offer her.

 _It'll be okay_ , is what Emma would say. _They won't find out. Everything will be alright._

Regina repeated the words to herself as she was led over to the infamous barn on the far side of the island, hoping that if she imagined Emma's calm voice saying them, they might calm her down. It didn't work: the entire journey over, her heart rate kept building. Her beautiful dress – the one she didn't deserve – was suffocating her.

And then she was suddenly left alone for the first time that day. As she waited outside the double doors that would lead her into her own wedding, her thoughts began clattering around inside her head like pebbles being dropped down a well.

She glanced at the exit, wondering what would happen if she just left. Emma would be mad, sure, but she'd understand. She'd get over it. Wouldn't she?

Regina could picture her disappointed face all too easily. She knew what the answer was: no, she wouldn't.

The music started. It wasn't the tacky wedding march but something else – something softer, being played by violins – and it was already threatening to bring tears to her eyes. The doors were pulled open and just like that, Regina had nowhere left to run. The worst lie she'd ever told was stretched out in front of her in the form of carefully polished floorboards, and all she could do was take a deep breath and look up.

The aisle was so much longer than she'd been expecting. On either side of it, dozens of faces were turned and looking excitedly back at her, most of them whispering with awe when they saw her in her dress. She clutched her bouquet harder, feeling the hard stems digging into her palms, and wondered whether she was supposed to start walking already. It was such a long way, and she wasn't sure she had the strength to do it by herself.

She suddenly realised that this was the moment when her father should have appeared by her side and offered her his arm. He was supposed to be there to lead her down the aisle, and the fact that he wasn't made Regina's heart sink even further. Something sharp was probing at her throat and it was impossible to swallow it down.

But then someone _was_ at her side. A man, tall and charming and beaming at her, who was holding out his arm for her to take.

Regina knew she was dangerously close to sobbing as she stepped forward. "David?"

His smile broadened at her expression.

"Hey, I wasn't going to let you do this by yourself," he said, waiting as she slid her shaking arm in his. "You look beautiful, kiddo."

Against all odds, she felt herself smiling back at him. They took their first steps down the aisle, and finally Regina noticed who was waiting for her at the other end.

Of course Emma was wearing a tux. She couldn't do anything normally.

She was standing with her hands clasped awkwardly in front of her, and she was bouncing up on the balls of her feet. Regina recognised that nervous energy from all the times back in New York when Emma had been too scared to ask her boss for a favour. It made her feel weirdly nostalgic.

As soon as their eyes met, Emma grinned. Her suit matched her father's even down to the black bow tie, and her hair had been pulled back into a glossy ponytail with a French braid woven into the side. Regina had to sigh and acknowledge the fact that Mary Margaret had been right: Ruby really was good.

Emma looked beautiful, and the slightly nervous optimism on her face was the only thing so far that day that managed to calm Regina's pounding heart.

When she reached the front of the room, David stepped forward to kiss her cheek before enveloping his daughter in a hug. He sat down in the front row next to Mary Margaret, who was already crying in spite of the overjoyed smile that was plastered across her face. The sight of it made Regina feel colder even than when she'd fallen off the boat.

Then she saw who was waiting for them at the back of the room: Mr Gold was leaning against the wall, not even bothering to take a seat because it was obvious that he wasn't expecting to be there long. He was already sneering. In the hand that wasn't clutching his cane was a voice recorder.

Regina turned back to Emma knowing full well that her perfectly made-up face had gone pale. Emma smiled nervously.

"It's okay," she said quietly. When she reached out a hand, Regina instantly grabbed it and squeezed.

With the warmth of Emma's fingers in hers, Regina took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. _It'll be alright. It'll be alright._

Then she turned to her other side and saw who was standing between them. "Oh, God. Seriously?"

"What?" Leroy asked, gesturing down at his suit and official notes. "I'm a man of many talents, sister."

"Nice to see you with your clothes on, I suppose," she replied automatically. Emma let out a bark of laughter.

"Now that everyone's ready," Leroy said, his wide grin completely contradicting the sullenness of his voice. "I guess it's time to marry these kids."

Emma smiled, but Regina just felt something plummeting into the depths of her stomach. She turned and looked at Emma's parents again, who were clasping hands and wiping away tears. Two rows behind them, Killian was grinning up at them.

There were only two faces in the room not smiling. Mr Gold's – and Regina's.

She looked back at Emma, feeling herself breaking out in a sweat across the whole of her body, and had a split second to remember what it had felt like to be with her the night before. Emma had held her so tightly and had fucked her like it was a privilege, and yet there Regina was, clutching a bouquet of white roses as she prepared to tear her life apart. Every single part of this ordeal had been the result of her own selfishness – and worse, her cowardice – and when she saw Emma smile hopefully at her again, she suddenly realised that it was time to stop.

Leroy was talking, and she lifted a hand to silence him. His sentence jolted into nothing.

Some people began to mutter as they waited for things to move along again, but Regina was standing with her eyes closed and her blood rushing in her ears. Beside her, she felt Emma shift on her feet.

"Regina?"

That snapped her out of it. When she opened her eyes, she found her fiancée watching her worriedly.

Regina took a breath and smiled. "Sorry."

Then she turned around, taking in the room of people who had gathered there to see Emma be happy at last.

"Hello," she said, her voice cracking. Emma immediately groaned. "Sorry. I just… I needed to say something."

Emma grabbed her hand. "Regina. Don't."

"Thanks everyone for coming," Regina continued, gently peeling herself free of Emma's fingers. "I know you were here already for the party, but thank you for staying for today as well."

A few people smiled uncertainly back at her. On the opposite side of the room, Mr Gold had lifted his voice recorder higher.

Ignoring him, Regina swallowed and said, "So – some of you may know that I'm originally from Canada."

"Regina," Emma hissed, trying to grab her arm again and missing when Regina sharply pulled away.

"I left when I was 17, and I've lived in America ever since. Recently, my visa expired, and the government threatened to deport me."

She could see a lot of confused faces looking back at her, but she could deal with that. What she couldn't deal with was the disappointment that was going to come next.

"This wedding is a sham," she said. Her voice was quiet and cracked slightly on the final word, but she knew everyone had heard her.

The room instantly filled with mutters and gasps. In the front row, Mary Margaret had gone pale.

Regina took a deep breath and continued. "I blackmailed Emma into marrying me so that I wouldn't be forced to leave the country. I threatened to ruin her career, and she had no choice. She didn't want to do it, but she agreed. And I can't go through with it. None of you deserve this."

When she turned to look at Emma again, she found her watching her with an expression that was half anger and half disappointment. Regina tried to smile, but it came out flat. "You don't deserve this, Emma. I'm so sorry for dragging you into it."

She looked back at her parents, then wished she hadn't. The betrayal on their faces was enough to knock her backward.

"I'm… sorry," she said, knowing what a weak statement it was but having nothing better to offer them. "I'm sorry for misleading you. I didn't think that your family would be so…"

There was no way she could finish that sentence. She hadn't been expecting anything.

Instead, she just nodded sharply and started walking, hoping her face wasn't burning too brightly as she passed by the dozens of confused guests. At the back of the room, Gold was watching her. He shut off his voice recorder with an exaggerated click as she approached.

She didn't say a word as she passed him. She could hear whispering and muttering behind her, and she ignored it. She strode out the room with her head held high and listened for the sound of a cane clicking as only one person followed her.

* * *

"What were you _thinking_?"

Emma groaned, rubbing her hand over the back of her neck. Her mother had asked that question 10 times in the past five minutes, and by that point her tears were just starting up again. Her round face was mottled pink with rage and sadness, and she kept gripping hold of her husband's arm like she needed help to stay upright.

"Mom, I'm sorry," Emma replied, looking up at her dad for assistance. He was watching her silently with a different kind of disappointment on his face. "It all got out of hand and I didn't—"

"You committed _fraud_ ," Mary Margaret interrupted shrilly. "You could have gone to jail!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Emma snapped. "I didn't just dive headfirst into it without thinking about the consequences. But she was blackmailing me and I'd worked too hard over the past few years to let her tank my career now."

Mary Margaret pressed her spare hand against her chest and let out an aggrieved sigh. "I can't believe she did this. She seemed so lovely."

"She _is_ lovely."

"Emma," David scoffed. "Come on. You can't seriously think that."

"I mean it," Emma replied, surprised by how forceful her tone was. "Look, you know what a bitch she was to me back in New York. I never hid that. But since we got here… I don't know. Things changed. I saw a different side to her, and she's not the same person as the one who tried to ruin my life a week ago."

"People don't change that much in seven days."

"Maybe she didn't need to change. Maybe she was never that terrible to begin with."

David sighed loudly. "What was she, then?"

"She was _scared_ ," Emma said. For the life of her, she couldn't work out why she was defending her so insistently: Regina had tried to ruin her, and she'd been a pain in her ass for years and she'd also just walked out on their wedding in front of Emma's entire family. That still hurt, regardless of whether the marriage was a sham or not. And yet, rather than being angry with her, Emma just felt sad. Regina had sacrificed her happiness for her, and she didn't even have anyone to hug her and tell her that she'd done the right thing afterwards – she'd just done it because she'd finally realised it was right.

Emma shook her head to get rid of Regina's voice when she'd told her about her childhood, and she said, "She went through some really bad stuff back in Canada. She was desperate not to go back there. And sure, she went about it in a really bad way, but she was just trying to protect herself. I don't blame her for that."

"Even though you nearly ended up in prison?"

"No," Emma replied firmly. "It was my choice. I decided to help her, and I don't regret it."

Finally, her parents were looking at her with something other than disappointment. In fact, they looked a little hopeful.

"Emma," Mary Margaret asked slowly. "When you were in New York… How did you feel about her?"

Emma snorted. "I hated her."

"You didn't like her at all?"

"No," Emma said, then paused. "I mean, I respected some things about her, and I guess I thought she was pretty, but that wasn't enough to overshadow the rest of it."

"And yet now you're defending her?"

Emma wasn't really sure what she was implying, so she just shrugged. "Yeah. Sure. Why?"

Her parents exchanged a look that she recognised.

"She was always selfish, though – right?" David asked.

"Of course."

"And she never put anyone else first."

"Right…"

"So now that she's gone," David continued. "What should we make of the fact that she just got herself deported so that you and your family wouldn't get hut?"

Emma opened her mouth, then paused. All at once, she remembered the way Regina had clung onto her and pleaded the night before.

"Oh, shit," she blurted out. She suddenly felt hot all over. "Oh no."

Mary Margaret patted her shoulder sympathetically. "You didn't realise?"

"Oh, _shit_ ," Emma repeated, going to run her hands through her hair and then remembering that it was tied back. "She _loves_ me?"

"Emma," her mother sighed impatiently. "You did notice how she acted around you, right?"

"But it was an _act_ ," Emma insisted. "We were just pretending so that you wouldn't get suspicious."

David snorted. "And you did a mighty fine job of it, because I could have sworn I heard the two of you getting up to no good at one o'clock this morning."

Humiliation washed over Emma in a hot wave. " _Dad_."

"Excuse me?" Mary Margaret asked. "You were doing what?"

"It doesn't matter."

"But I separated you!"

"Is that really the point?"

"It was the night before your  _wedding_!" Mary Margaret shrieked. "No wonder this whole ceremony fell apart!"

"Mary Margaret," David said, chuckling. "You're focusing on the wrong thing. Our little baby girl is actually, finally in love."

Emma covered her eyes with her hand and groaned. "This is the worst day of my entire fucking life."

"Language," Mary Margaret scolded before grabbing her wrist and forcing Emma to meet her gaze once more. "You really do love her?"

"I…" Emma started, her face going even redder. "I don't know. I hadn't thought about it."

"Well, it's probably time to start. Because she obviously loves _you_ , and she'll be on a plane back to New York in about 30 minutes if you don't do something about it."

Emma blinked, looking around her like she was only just realising where she was.

"Shit. They're actually going to take her."

"Not if we stop them," David said, straightening his shoulders. "Plus that Gold guy has a cane – he can't have gotten very far."

Emma couldn't even laugh at that comment, because her heart was pounding and she could feel herself sweating all over at the idea that Regina really might be taken from her. She was on her way to the airport, probably still wearing that fucking wedding dress, and if Emma didn't get to her first then she might not ever get the chance to tell her how she felt.

If she could work out what it was, of course.

"Come on," Mary Margaret said, taking her daughter's hand. "Maybe we can catch them."

For a second, everything slowed down. Emma looked at her parents with a new kind of throbbing in her chest. She remembered the looks on their faces the day she'd come out to them, and then she saw how they were looking at her now. Tears sprung up in her eyes.

"We?"

Her mother squeezed her hand. "We. You don't think we're going to let our daughter-in-law get away, do you?"

Emma choked with a noise that was half a laugh and half a sob, and she stepped forward to hug them both. They squeezed back, their bodies warm and familiar and welcoming, and she felt herself melt into them. Four years of resentment and disappointment wisped away as their unconditional acceptance finally wrapped its way around her.

When she pulled away, Mary Margaret wiped the tears away from Emma's cheeks on instinct.

"Ready for an airport chase?" she asked, her face almost hysterical in its sincerity.

Emma grinned, straightening her shoulders under her tuxedo. "You bet. Now let's go."

* * *

Mr Gold gave Regina five minutes to go into the airport bathroom and change out of her dress. When they'd stopped off at the house, she'd only had time to throw her possessions into a suitcase and head for the door. Changing hadn't been on her mind then – not when her brain was filled with all sorts of unpleasant images that were threatening to make her weep.

She'd never cared before when someone had looked at her with disappointment – not once in her whole adult life. But seeing Emma and her parents looking at her like she'd just single-handedly torn their lives apart had hit her hard, and as she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror – her hair ruined from the boat trip to shore and her make-up smudged under both eyes – she realised that she hated herself. She wished she'd never started this whole charade in the first place.

Except, she admitted to herself as she wiped away her sooty eyeliner with a shaking finger, she didn't. If she hadn't coerced Emma into helping her, she wouldn't have experienced the best and weirdest weekend of her life. She wouldn't have ever felt that strange softness in her chest whenever Emma stood close to her, and she wouldn't have been pinned down into a mattress and fucked until tears of relief were spilling out of her eyes.

More importantly, she wouldn't have been held so closely afterward.

She remembered waking up in the middle of the night to find Emma's arms wrapped around her, and she had to sniff hard to stop herself from crying again.

Someone banged on the bathroom door. "Ms Mills. Your five minutes are up."

Regina rolled her eyes and looked down at the wedding dress in her hands. All she could do was fold it up and cram it into one of the bags she'd brought along with her – she sure as hell wasn't leaving it in Maine. Not when she was already leaving everything else there.

* * *

"Now what?" Emma asked as she stared up at the departures board. Flights to New York left every hour and she had no idea which one Regina was on, or if she was even there at all. There was every chance that Gold had taken her somewhere else, or driven her back to Manhattan so she couldn't make a getaway from the airport. Emma could feel herself getting sweaty again under her suit as she imagined going back home without ever knowing what the future could have held for them. She had to see Regina. She _had_ to.

Her mother had already pulled out her cell phone and was happily chatting. "Hi, Ruby – we need your help."

"Gimme," Emma demanded, reaching for the phone and snatching it out of her mom's hand. "Rubes? Can you access the airport booking system from your phone?"

"I sure can, my little crime dog," Ruby replied. "How's the chase going?"

"Not well. We need to know if she's been checked onto a flight."

"I'm just looking now," Ruby said. There was a pause, followed by a tapping in the background, before she asked, "What the hell were you thinking, Em?"

"Let's not get into that."

Mary Margaret leaned in to the phone and all but sang, "She _loves_ her."

"Mom," Emma snapped, pulling away from her. "Can you not?"

"Am I supposed to be surprised?" Ruby drawled, tapping some more. "The fact that the wedding was fake came as such as shock to everyone because we all see the way you undress each other with your eyes whenever you're in the same room as each other. Hey, are you going to get married for real now?"

"Is she on a flight or not?"

"Touchy. Fine, fine – she's on the 4:30 to JFK."

Emma looked down at her watch and flinched. "That's in 20 minutes."

"Then you'd better run, little gazelle," Ruby said cheerily. "Tell her I want to go for drinks again when you catch her."

Emma hung up without responding and turned back to her parents. "How much sway do you have over airport security?"

David wrinkled his nose. "Not much. We have a couple of stores in the departures lounge, though – maybe they can get us through?

"It'll have to be enough," Emma replied. She braced herself for a run. "Gate 16. Let's go."

* * *

Regina couldn't pretend that she wasn't a little hurt by the lack of messages on her phone. Not that she thought she deserved them – there was just a small, naïve part of her hoping that once she'd turned to leave, Emma would have called her back again.

That hadn't been the case though, and Regina had to resign herself to the fact that Emma had obviously been relieved to see her go. Her troubles were over now, after all, and she still had her entire disgruntled family to deal with. Once that was all taken care of, maybe Regina would get a courtesy text to check that she hadn't been thrown in jail already.

Maybe that was all she deserved.

Regina clicked her phone off and rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead.

"It's lucky for her that you took all the blame," Mr Gold suddenly piped up from beside her. "It would be a shame for that pretty little blonde thing to wind up in jail."

Gritting her teeth together, Regina said, "Stop it. It's done, alright? I've turned myself in."

"Just like I knew you would," Gold replied. "I always get my man."

Regina clenched her fists to stop herself from reaching out and strangling him. After a beat, she looked up at the sign that was hanging above their gate. "We're boarding."

"Eager to get back home?" Gold asked. "It'll be nice to see your mother again, hmm?"

Regina quickly stood up and headed over to the line. Gold was still struggling to get to his feet, but she didn't even feel remotely guilty for tormenting a cripple. She hoped he rotted.

It didn't even matter that technically this wasn't his fault – she hated him anyway. She felt so full of fiery rage that it was a wonder the airport sprinklers hadn't gone off.

They waited in line for some time before it started moving. Regina checked her phone once more, but there was nothing there. Her eyes burned and her throat felt sharp.

She and Gold were nearly at the front of the line when she heard a commotion from the far end of the hall. She glanced over and spotted a crowd of people, most of them wearing security uniforms, and she thought for a moment that maybe the airport was about to go into lockdown. That would delay her journey nicely, at the very least. She might even be forced to stay in Maine another night while they dealt with whatever chaos was going on.

But then she realised the crowd was moving toward her, and she turned sharply away. It didn't look like Gold had noticed what was happening, but he still had that obnoxious smirk on his face that made Regina want to commit yet another crime.

"You called for back up?" she demanded. He looked back at her, his eyebrows rising.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm not _going_ anywhere," she scoffed. "I turned myself in, remember? Why would I run away?"

Her confusion grew when Gold asked, "What on Earth are you talking about, Ms Mills?"

He didn't seem to be lying, which was strange. But she still had a sneaking suspicion that the crowd that was hurrying in her direction wasn't a mere coincidence.

Then she heard a familiar voice, and her heart all but stopped.

"Don't you _dare_ get on that plane."

It was frantic and wheezing slightly, and Regina spun around to find Emma standing there, right there, 10 feet away with her tux all dishevelled and her hair flying.

Regina staggered back a step, colliding with the person ahead of her in line. "Emma?"

She realised then that Emma wasn't alone: her parents were behind her, both of them also struggling to catch their breath, and behind that was the collection of security guards and airport staff she'd seen storming toward her.

She swallowed, suddenly feeling more unsure of herself than she had done all weekend. "What's going on?"

"We're…" Emma started, then paused to bend over her knees and wheeze a bit more. "One sec."

"Why are you panting?" Regina asked, twitching a little when she saw the sheen of sweat on her forehead. "And since when did you come with such an entourage?"

David breathlessly chimed in when his daughter didn't manage to respond. "Owning half the town comes with its perks, but that still doesn't mean they trust you to run through an airport without an armed escort."

Regina wasn't sure whether she should be more surprised by the fact that he was still willing to laugh with her or the fact that they were all there at all. She'd _left_. She'd given them their lives back and she'd thought that they'd never want to see her again – and yet, here they all were, having chased her halfway across Maine still wearing their wedding outfits.

A sudden thought made Regina's heart sink. "Oh. You want the dress back."

There was a pause before Mary Margaret scoffed loudly. "Don't be so stupid. Who breaches airport security for the sake of a used wedding dress?"

"Half used," David pointed out.

"Guys," Emma interrupted, having finally caught her breath. "Can you maybe stop?"

Her parents raised their hands simultaneously and backed away, leaving Emma to visibly steel herself before she turned around once more. She found Regina waiting for her with her cheeks slightly pink and her teeth buried in her lip.

She swallowed and asked, "What are you doing here?"

Honestly, Emma didn't know. She'd spent the entire journey trying to decide what the outcome of this would be, and she'd still come up short. All she knew was that she wasn't willing to let Regina go without saying something – saying _anything_ – about how her heart pounded when she thought of her. About how the idea of her leaving was more painful than anything she'd ever gone through.

"You didn't even have the balls to say it," Emma eventually blurted out. It wasn't the most elegant opening line, but Regina didn't seem to mind.

"To say what?"

"You know what," Emma replied. She saw from the instant teariness in Regina's eyes that yes – she knew exactly what. "Are you going to admit it?"

Regina's jaw hardened and she quickly looked away. "There's nothing to admit."

"Bullshit," Emma replied, stepping closer. "Why did you do that? At the wedding?"

When Regina looked back at her, her eyes were hard, dark little things. They reminded Emma of when she used to build snowmen on the island and used black buttons so they could see.

"I was just…" Regina started, but then quickly gave up. She didn't know why she'd done it. If she'd just said "I do", she might have gotten away with the entire charade, but at the last second her heart had decided that that wasn't a good enough reason to go ahead with it.

When she didn't get an answer, Emma sighed. "You're so goddamn stubborn, you know that?"

Regina glared back at her. "Well. Then it's lucky for you that you don't have to marry me anymore, right?"

"Right. Except that wasn't your decision," Emma replied. "I'd agreed. I was _there_. I'd gone through all that shit for you and you couldn't even let that go as planned, could you? Was it because you finally had me on board that you decided it would be more interesting to just call it quits?"

She was pretty certain that that wasn't the case, but she had to be sure. When Regina gasped with indignation, relief swept through her.

"Of course not," Regina snapped. "Look, I can't help it that you and your crazy family got under my skin. I couldn't go through with it. It was going to hurt all of you and I didn't want to do that. Alright?"

It was _so_ alright, because Emma knew Regina, and she knew she'd only do something so selfless for someone she really, truly cared about.

She smiled, which made Regina take another step back.

"And you don't think that means something?" Emma asked.

"No," Regina insisted. "Just because I did a nice thing doesn't mean you have to read so much into it."

She was acutely aware of the fact that at least 50 people were staring at them. Boarding had ceased entirely while everyone watched this strange interaction play out. Regina straightened her spine and tried to look like none of it bothered her.

"Why did you come here?" she asked.

To her extreme annoyance, Emma just shrugged. "Partly because I was seriously pissed at you and I wanted to get an apology from you for running out on our wedding day."

A couple of women gasped with shock, but Emma continued before they could launch themselves at Regina.

"But mainly it was because when I was up there, standing alone at the alter wondering where the fuck my fiancée had just gone, I realised something."

Tears were springing up in Regina's eyes again and she blinked hard to try and get rid of them. "What?"

"I realised," Emma said, stepping closer, "that you're a gigantic pain in my ass."

Regina frowned. "Right. Thanks."

"And I realised that in spite of that – I kind of like you anyway."

"You _kind of_ like me?"

"I know. Who would've thought it, right? That I'd end up actually liking my own fiancée," Emma replied. She paused, taking in the glossiness of Regina's eyes and the vague terror on her face, and she decided to stop messing around. "Regina, I realised that I didn't want you to go. I was mad that you ran out, but I was also mad because I _wanted_ to marry you."

The words settled on every inch of Regina's skin, and it was such a struggle to not try and shake them off.

"Because you wanted to help me?" she clarified anxiously. _Please no_ , something in her heart said. _Please don't let it be that._

Emma was already shaking her head. "No. Because I think maybe I fell in love with you this weekend, and actually, marrying you would be the greatest honour of my life."

That made Regina feel vaguely like she was crumbling. She glanced at Mr Gold, who was watching them both with mounting annoyance on his face, and swallowed down the pain in her throat.

"Emma…" she said quietly. Apologies didn't come easily to her, but she forced one out anyway. "I'm sorry. I was trying to do a good thing."

"Yeah, I know. Typical you to do it in the most irritating manner possible, though."

Regina smiled weakly.

"I think…" she started, wishing everyone would stop fucking watching her so she could get this out properly. "I think I wasn't expecting your family to be how it is."

"What do you mean?"

"You know," Regina said desperately. "They're… nice. And welcoming. It threw me off and I couldn't keep going with this when I knew it would hurt all of you – you're working so hard to get your relationship back on track and I couldn't ruin it. You all deserve to have a proper family without some immigrant con artist tearing it apart."

Emma and her parents laughed in symphony.

"Regina," Emma sighed. "Would we be here if we didn't want you to be part of it?"

When Regina looked over Emma's shoulder, she found Mary Margaret and David nodding back at her. It didn't appear forced – sure, they were obviously still a little upset with her, but they were still _there_.

She threw them a watery smile. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"We know. But you can make it up to us," Mary Margaret replied.

"I will," she said, nodding furiously. Then she looked back at Emma, who was still watching her with the same kind of soft bemusement that Regina really never understood, and released a breath. "I'm scared, Emma. I've never had anyone before."

It was maybe the saddest sentence Emma had ever heard, but she still smiled.

"I know. I'm scared too," she said. After a beat she added, "But then again, I've been terrified of you for two years already, so I guess I can handle anything."

Regina laughed in spite of herself. Although she knew she didn't deserve to, she felt relieved. "Right. I guess you can."

When Emma saw her expression shift, she stepped forward and finally closed the last of the gap between them. Regina's entire body went slack the second their lips touched.

Emma slid her hands beneath Regina's hair and tilted her head back, kissing her slowly and tugging her closer with every second. Around them, people were clapping – actually clapping, like it was a scene from some kind of cheesy rom-com and they were all the paid extras. She didn't mind it so much, though, because Regina's body slotted into hers so perfectly and when she grabbed the front of her tux and pulled, it all felt right.

She pulled away with a grin and she found Regina smiling dopily back at her. It was a perfect moment.

But, as with most perfect moments, it immediately got ruined.

"Well, isn't this nice," Mr Gold chimed in. His voice was cold. "But the fact remains that Ms Mills still has to go. She's expected back in Vancouver in three days."

Somehow, in spite of everything, Emma had forgotten about all that.

Regina shook her head. "We can make something work. It won't be too bad."

It would, though. It would be awful. Regina would be trapped in another country and probably wouldn't ever be allowed to come back again, and the thought of that happening made Emma's entire body hurt.

She'd be damned before she let it happen – even if she had to do something really stupid to stop it.

She glanced round at her parents, who were already watching her like they were waiting for her to do something dumb, and grinned sheepishly. Then, with as much grace as she could manage, she lowered herself down onto one knee.

Mr Gold groaned and took a step back, because he'd finally been checkmated and there wasn't a thing he could do it stop it.

"Regina," Emma said, loving the way that Regina's eyes had gone wide and teary again. Around them, everything had stopped. The woman on the Delta Airlines desk had her chin resting on her hand as she watched them. " _Darling_ Regina."

Regina rolled her eyes and laughed. "Yes, Emma?"

"You might be the most infuriating woman I've ever met," Emma said softly. "And sometimes I really do want to strangle you in your sleep. But I think that's part of why I fell in love with you. Only someone as obnoxious as you could keep me on my toes forever."

She saw Regina quickly scrub at something on her cheek, but she didn't comment on it.

"I know," Regina said. "I think that's exactly why I fell in love with you too."

Emma beamed with enough voltage to blind her.

"In that case," she continued, taking a deep breath because even though this was a security measure, she meant every last word. "Marry me. Please. Because I'd like to date you."

Regina didn't even answer. She just fell to her knees in front of her and kissed her all over again, her hands gripping the collar of Emma's shirt and her lips curved upward into a relieved smile.

The clapping had started again. Behind Emma, David and Mary Margaret were both surreptitiously wiping tears away from their cheeks.

The only person who didn't look thrilled was Mr Gold. He was glaring down at them with his cane clutched in a death grip.

"I see," he said once they'd finally clambered back to their feet. "So. You're choosing the hard way?"

Regina grabbed Emma's hand and squeezed. "Something like that."

"Not a problem," he replied. He leaned close, trying to intimidate them, but neither woman flinched. "In that case, I look forward to seeing you both for your visa interview tomorrow morning as planned."

Emma laughed. "God, I literally cannot wait."

The total lack of fear in her voice made Gold visibly seethe, and he stormed off onto the plane that Regina clearly wasn't joining him on anymore.

Before Emma could say another word, Regina turned to her and grabbed her by the sides of her face. She pulled her in for another kiss, and then another, peppering her lips all over her mouth and cheeks until Emma was blushing and laughing. She never pulled away, though. When Regina was finally done, Emma just leaned their foreheads together and sighed happily.

"Thank you," Regina said.

"Don't even mention it, sweetums," Emma replied, earning her a slap to the arm. Her parents were approaching, and only then did they finally peel apart.

"So," David said, wrapping an arm around either of their shoulders. "Regina. Is this the part when I need to ask you about your intentions with my daughter?"

Regina grimaced. "Unfortunately I think you already know about all of that."

"I do," he said, not sounding particularly upset about it. He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Welcome to the family, I guess. For real, this time."

Then they were suddenly being shoved apart by Mary Margaret, who was enveloping Regina in a hug tight enough to make her ribs ache. Regina blinked at Emma, wondering what to do, until she eventually realised that she was supposed to hug her back.

"All of this was really stupid," Mary Margaret said, sounding stern for about a second before she sighed and added, "But we're still happy to have you."

Regina felt a throb deep in her heart and closed her eyes. "I'm happy to have you too."

They peeled apart, and Emma held out her hand. She was still smiling.

"Ready for the adventure of a lifetime?" she asked. Regina couldn't help letting out a fake sigh.

"With you?"

"I'm afraid so. Unless you've got a better offer?"

"Not that I can think of," Regina replied, tangling their fingers together. She squeezed hard, and Emma instantly squeezed back.

"So I guess I'll have to do then, won't I?"

"Right, Emma," Regina said softly as they began to walk away. "You'll just have to."

**THE END**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my lovely friends, I can't quite believe that this is the end! For those of you who have been asking why I'm leaving the world of swan queen fanfic, there's a post near the top of my tumblr (@starsthatburn) that should explain everything. For those who've been telling me not to delete my existing works, I don't plan to – they're all going to stay online on both AO3 and FF. I'm also not moving to another fandom (I don't really have any other ships to be honest), but I do plan to start writing my own book sometime soon just to see where I can take that.
> 
> I haven't got much else to say that I haven't already said on tumblr or twitter (@_starsthatburn), but I just need to thank you all again. Although there have been some pretty vile people following me through the fandom making sure I feel badly about myself and my writing, the vast majority of you have been so thoughtful and supportive and wonderful. Your encouragement has been more appreciated than you could ever know, and I'm going to miss reading your lovely comments so much.
> 
> Thanks for being the best readers I could have ever hoped for! Love you lots xx


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